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PRESENT ISSUES; 

OR, 

FACTS OBSERVABLE 

IN THE CONSCIOUSNESS OF THE AGE, 



BY 



Rev. ROBERT WITHERS MEMMINGER, 

PEOTESTANT EPISCOPAL CHDECH-DIOCESE OP SOUTH CAEOLINA, U. S., 
AUTHOK OF " WHAT IS EELIGION." 



"When it is evening, ye say, it will be fair weather: for the sky is red. And in the 
morning, it will be foul weather to-day : for the sky is red and lowering. O ye 
hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky ; but can ye not discern the signs 
of the times ? " 





PHILADELPHIA: 
CLAXTON, REMSEN & HAFFELFINGER. 

1873. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by 

CLAXTON, REMSEN & HAFFELFINGER, 

in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 

ST£B£OTTP£D BY J. FAOAN ft BON, PHILADELPHIA. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Introduction v 

CHAPTER I. 

The Church, as an Establishment, Essentially 
Human . . 17 

CHAPTER n. 
Sacerdotalism 52 

CHAPTER III. 

Christianity and Esthetics; or, The Christian 

CULTUS 79 

CHAPTER IV. 
The Pulpit — its Relation to Society; and its 
Duty 105 

CHAPTER V. 
Universalism, and Calvinism 146 

CHAPTER VI. 
Civilization, and dEViL-woRSHiP .... 195 

Conclusion . . . 238 

iii 



INTEODUCTION. 



THERE are many fields upon which the thinker may 
direct his powers of observation. If in thoughtfulness 
he turn his observation towards the heavenly bodies, he is 
an astronomer. If he look at nature and reflect upon what 
he observes there, he is a scientist, or perhaps an artist. If 
he look at God, he becomes a theologian. If he observe 
himself, looking inwards, examining the facts of his own 
consciousness, he is a psychologist, a moralist, or a metaphy- 
sician. A psychologist, if he confine his attention to opera- 
tions within ; a moralist, if he observe and reflect upon the 
facts connected with conscience ; a metaphysician, if he oc- 
cupy himself in reflecting upon those ideas and abstractions, 
which, in introspection, he comes in contact with. But be- 
sides all these fields of observation there is yet another, and 
just as real as any of the preceding. Society, as a whole, is 
as truly an existence, a reality, as is the individual man. 
The broadest view that can be taken of society, is to con- 
template it as co-equal and co-extensive with the race. The 
human race, as a whole, is a unit ; just as much so as is the 
individual man. It is an organism, as much so as is the 
plant, the animal, or the individual personal man. All the 
individuals are the members of one common body ; all taken 
together are necessary in order to complete the whole. 
There are various orders of intelligent existence, each of 
them apparently constituted differently. First, there is 
1^ V 



VI INTRODUCTION. 

God; the Godhead, the highest and only necessary order of 
existence. In the unity of this Godhead there are three per- 
sons, each of them infinite and perfect, associated and essen- 
tially connected together in an incomprehensible necessary 
manner ; the three together ''constituting the unity of that 
supreme order of existence, termed the Godhead. The tri- 
personality of the Godhead is a philosophic necessity ; we 
can somewhat perceive this ; but it is, in its full comprehen- 
sion, beyond the powers of our imagination and reason. 

The next order of intelligent existence of which we are 
cognizant, is the angelic. This order of existence is not neces- 
sary, but created. It, from all that we can learn, appears 
to consist, of an innumerable number of separate personal 
intelligences ; each one of them being a distinct separate 
existence, not deriving its being and nature from another, 
its ancestor, as in the case of the human. All the separate 
individual angels taken together constitute the unity of what 
is the second sphere of intelligent existence, the angelic. 
There is then, thus far, one separate order of existence — 
the necessary one of the Godhead, a unity in which a tri- 
personality is a philosophical necessity. And next, there is 
a second created order of existence, in the unity of which 
there are innumerable separate individuals. The angelic 
order of existence is an unity, inasmuch as it has a definite 
number of individuals all possessed of a like common na- 
ture. Doubtless there are constitutional differences in the 
various individualities, which constitute the angelic order 
of existence. All these individualities have then to be 
taken together, to complete the unity of the angelic order 
of existence. Subject to such individual modifications, there 
is such a thing as the angelic nature, just as there is such a 
thing as human nature and the God-nature. There is a 
God, or Godhead nature ; there is an angelic nature ; and 
there is a human nature. It is this element which consti- 



INTEODUCTION. Vll 

tutes the fact of unity, in any of these orders of being. 
God is one, because the three persons in the Godhead have 
each entirely the Godhead nature. All angels have the 
angelic nature ; all are common partakers of it. All hu- 
man beings partake of a common human nature, hence the 
unity of the race ; so in the highest order of existence. God 
is one, inasmuch as Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, are each 
partakers, and in a necessary manner, of, the one common 
generic nature, peculiar to the Godhead. There is then a 
God, or Divine nature, peculiar to the Godhead, which con- 
stitutes its unity ; there is, moreover, an angelic nature, and 
there is a human nature. Human nature is generic; in 
order to its perfect manifestation, all the individuals which 
constitute the race must be taken together. The whole 
Godhead is manifest in any one person of the ever blessed 
Trinity. And perLaps the same is true of angelic nature ; 
but it is not so in the case of man. In the case of human 
nature, all the individuals are partakers of something in 
common ; and this constitutes and preserves the unity of the 
race. But no one individual, has in himself, the whole of 
human nature ; it requires all the individuals to be taken 
together, to render human nature, as a distinct order of ex- 
istence, complete. Human nature cannot be, therefore, thor- 
oughly defined, until all the individuals which are to consti- 
tute the race shall have passed through the sphere of real 
existence, thus consummating the mass. With the infinite 
and the perfect, there is necessarily, no difierence. The 
Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, are all the same ; the 
consciousness of one of them, is that, of the others. In this 
supreme sphere of existence everything is necessary. In 
the human, inasmuch as it is finite, there are limitations, and 
therefore there is possibility of difference and variety. Limi- 
tation does not necessitate variety, therefore, in the angelic 
sphere it may not be so. But in the human there is limita- 



Vlll INTRODUCTION. 

tion, and with it variety ; and all these varieties have to be 
taken together, in order perfectly to present the whole. Un- 
der such conditions, the consciousness of one individual, is 
not that of another. There is a sameness, and hence a 
unity of nature and of consciousness ; but there is too, a 
constitutional variety, incidental to the proportions, in which 
human nature is arranged in the different individualities ; 
and therefore, in the consciousness. There is, then, a con- 
sciousness peculiar to the individual, corresponding to the 
specific limitations of his being ; and there is a more generic 
consciousness, peculiar to the race, and corresponding to the 
limitations of its being. The omniscient eye of the Deity, 
no doubt, sees mankind thus, in its entirety. He observes 
the operations within the race-consciousness, just as we do 
those within ourselves. The race-consciousness is to Him as 
the individual consciousness is to us. The consciousness of 
the race is thus, ever present before the eye of God; the be- 
ginning, middle, and end, are all ever present before Him, 
who has only to look, and to read it off. To us, however, 
this world-consciousness must ever remain an impossibility ; 
our view, must ever be bounded by a very limited horizon, 
both as to time and space. Society is too broad for us 
to see it even at any one period all at once ; and our time is 
so short, that we obtain but a glimpse of the, to us, ever 
changing panorama of events. 

The social area which our powers of observation enable 
us personally to scan, is the age in which we live, and that 
branch of society, that section of humanity in which we find 
ourselves placed. Subject to such limitations, it is prac- 
ticable for us to make a study of the consciousness of the age. 
True, we can extend the horizon by using history, but this 
would be to enter upon a broader study and science. The 
thinker can direct his attention upon the operations observ- 
able within the age-consciousness, as truly, as he can upon 



INTRODUCTION. IX 

those taking place within himself. It is just as legitimate 
to study the consciousness of the age as that of the indi- 
vidual ; and to the man who is accustomed to such work, 
doubtless, the movements occurring and the forces at work 
within and upon society, are as clearly discernible, as are 
those of the soul, to the psychologist. True, the study of 
this generic consciousness is more difficult than is that of 
the specific individual consciousness ; but the facts of the 
one are just as real and as conspicuous to the practised ob- 
server as are those of the other ; the analysis is more com- 
j)licated and difficult ; but with patience it can be finally 
efiected. The man who makes us known to ourselves, does 
for us a valuable work. He raises us from the instinctive 
sphere of childhood life, to that of thoughtful reflecting self- 
conscious manhood. So in the domain of social life, of man 
as a generic and therefore historic being. The thinker who 
is able to seize hold of the forces at work within society, to 
hold them up for general inspection, to describe them, and 
thus to bring them out clearly before the consciousness of 
his fellow-men ; such a man does a work still more valuable 
for his age; for he enables it to see itself; to know whither 
it is drifting ; and if that drift be in a dangerous direction, 
towards the vortex ; perhaps, he may be the means, of pre- 
venting a catastrophe. The main difficulty in the indi- 
vidual and with sofciety at large, is, in its want of self-con- 
sciousness. A man may be very easily ruined, before he 
bethink himself and become aware of what it is that is de- 
stroying him. When a man " comes to himself," that is, 
awakes to a realization of his situation, then there is hope ; 
but until then there is none. Society is but man on a 
large scale. Could we but see, as no doubt God sees it, we 
should observe, that society is entirely unconscious of those 
influences which are thus effectually swaying it, and is all 
unaware of whither it is drifting. We would see human 



X INTRODUCTION. 

masses swayed hither and thither accordingly as they are led 
by those who undertake to influence them ; and as the grand 
result, we might observe a general movement of the whole 
mass, in some particular direction. It is seldom, if ever, that 
society becomes self-conscious and aware of whither it is 
drifting. And although it by no means follows, that when 
such influences and such a drift are made manifest by some 
one who is able to detect them ; that such a revelation will 
prove effectual, in influencing or in counteracting such a 
movement, when it is in the direction of evil ; still, there is 
always some value to be attached to such an exhibit ; at 
least, it will make honest thoughtful men pause and reflect. 
It will cause such minds to re-examine then their positions 
and to test the ground upon which they are invited to take 
position ; thus it may be the means of doing some good, of 
saving the honest from hurrying on with the thoughtless 
mass towards the abyss. Not every man, however, who 
" comes to himself," repents. All are not like the " prodi- 
gal son." And the same is true of society. It may see its 
folly ; but may not care to mend. There are always certain 
questions which agitate society ; certain ideas or systems of 
thought struggling within the consciousness of the age 
towards their realization. It is a curious fact, but true, that 
society is never, as a whole, completely under the dominion of 
any one idea, or of any one system of tnought. There are 
always two views of a subject co-existent and co-antagonis- 
tic. No system of philosophy ever holds exclusive sway. 
If Aristotle rules, still, Plato will resist him. Positivism 
may appear to be universal, and yet a close observation will 
inevitably bring to light, as a fact, an ever-increasing reac- 
tion, in favor of idealism. There is always a reaction against 
the prevailing tendency of an age ; a minority, ever watch- 
ful to take advantage of every opportunity that its adver- 
sary may inadvertently offer. Such an opposition, when 



INTRODUCTION. XI 

hopelessly in the minority, stands to the prevailing ten- 
dency, as embodied in the majority, in the relation of its 
critic. Its office is to watch, to detect^ to expose defects, to 
undermine what is, and so to prepare the way for what is 
to be. 

Every age has its prevailing tendencies, and its stealthily 
brewing, reactionary influences. Every age has its favorite 
philosophic system, its dominant ideas, its way of feeling ; 
its majority : and it has also, its opposite, philosophic sys- 
tem, which is to be; it has ideas which aim to subvert 
those that are ; it has its incipient fluctuation, in the sphere 
of the feelings. The age which is soft and sentimental, car- 
ries in it the germ of an age, that will be stern and unre- 
lenting. The age that despises aesthetics, carries in it the 
germ of one, that will adore the fine arts. The age that is 
critical and unbelieving, carries in it, an already reaction 
towards religion, and even superstition. Thus there is ever 
a minority, an opposition, alongside of the prevailing ten- 
dency of the majority. 

We propose in the ensuing work to select and to describe 
some of the tendencies, philosophical and practical, prevail- 
ing ; or, as yet, only reactionary, which are clearly discern- 
ible within the consciousness of this, our age. Forces will 
continue to act within and upon society, irrespective of our 
observation of them. But to become aware of what is 
going on around us, is certainly instructive and interesting. 
Moreover, it makes us wiser ; enables us to choose for our- 
selves on which side we prefer to enlist ; enables us to sep- 
arate ourselves from the evil and from the false; and to 
attach ourselves to the true, the beautiful, and the good. 

The first thing to be done, in order towards an intelligent 
understanding of the facts of the present, is to detect, single 
out, and then clearly describe those facts which we propose 
at present to deal with. The forces operating within the 



XU INTRODUCTION. 

sphere of the consciousness of an age are always numerous 
and complex. Any domain of thought, and of life, — the 
moral, the religious,- the social, or the political, — any one 
of these might be taken, examined, and considered sepa- 
rately. When any such sphere is selected as the one to- 
wards which our attention is to be especially directed, the 
first thing to be done, is thereupon, to select those particu- 
lar facts which are to be the subjects of our examination. 
Having made such a selection, holding them up, firmly 
grasped, that they may be clearly seen by others, we pro- 
ceed to analyze, and so to describe them. Next we proceed 
to classify ; and to do this, we must look back into the 
past. To understand the present, we must study the past. 
History then next comes under our observation, and we 
proceed to examine it just as we have done the present. 
The object in view, is to detect the forces which have been 
operating, in the formation of the history of the past. His- 
tory gives us events, and these we can freely examine, in 
order to discover their organic connection or the vital forces 
which produced them. Having, then, in the sequence of 
historic events, and in their relation to each other, succeeded 
in detecting certain movements and the forces which are 
therein embodied, we have before us a certain class of facts, 
with which w^e can collate, those which w^e have detected in 
the present. In so far as such facts are cognate, we can 
classify them, and thereupon can proceed to generalize and 
to infer, as concerns the future. Thus we attach the pres- 
ent to the past, and enlarge our field of observation, by tak- 
ing in the whole domain of history ; our experience is there- 
fore so much the more extended, and our generalizations so 
much the more valuable. 

By thus comparing the present with the past, we are able 
to recognize what now is, in what was. We can see in 
former ages the very same ideas and philosophies and feel- 



INTRODUCTION. XIU 

ings at work, as now ; we see what results then followed, 
and we know therefore what to expect. Moreover, we 
ought to learn wisdom by such retrospection. In thus re- 
flecting upon the movements of the past ; where they acted 
disastrously, we ought to learn wisdom. Such disasters 
ought to enlighten us as to the true nature of the causes 
from which they resulted ; for thus only can truth be made 
manifest and error eliminated and condemned. Being thus 
informed as to error, we ought to be warned against it in 
future and learn to avoid it. Thus the past, if it were but 
used, might be " a light unto our feet and a lamp unto our 
path," and enable us to walk in the light, that we should 
not again stumble, and repeat forever and forever the same 
sad, dismal story, of a decline and fall ; and all through the 
fatal inanity of falsehood. Every fatal movement starts and 
has its vital source, in error. The only way of preventing 
the disaster is to correct the error. As long as that remains 
implanted in the consciousness of the age, whether it be as 
an idea or a school of thought, a philosophy or a system of 
theology — whatever may be the nature of the error — it is 
certain, that until it is dislodged, trampled upon, and up- 
rooted and cast out from the consciousness a lie ; so long 
will it continue to fructify, or, like a cancer, will continue 
eating into and destroying the age and society in which it 
exists. It is of vital importance, then, that the inanity and 
the falsehood of error, should be clearly manifested. It 
must be both controverted and at the same time encoun- 
tered and put to flight by the explicit statement of its 
counter -truth. To controvert error without, at the same 
time, establishing in its place, positive truth, is but time 
wasted. For society, deprived of its error-food, nothing 
being substituted in its place that it can lay hold upon, will 
but adopt another, to feed upon. The enunciation of posi- 
tive truth, is the only way, by which eflectually to checl^- 
2 



XIV INTRODUCTION. 

mate the insidious moves of the wily Spirit of Lies — the 
only way in which he himself can be effectually met and 
foiled. 

In thus exhibiting the movements of an age ; in detecting 
and exposing what are deemed dangerous movements, and 
in tracing them up to the source from which they emanate, 
it becomes necessary, while on the one hand, the parent 
error is directly assaulted and shown to be inane and false, 
on the other hand, to meet it fairly and squarely, by exhib- 
iting in opposition to it its antagonistic and counter-truth. 
Thus, in the first movement treated of in the succeeding 
work ; inasmuch as all the agitations with respect to the 
form of the Christian Church are, in the opinion of the 
writer, the result of a fundamental error, it becomes neces- 
sary to controvert this error, and at the same time to pre- 
sent as the counter-truth, subversive of such an error, the 
true view of the ecclesiastical system of Christianity. Such 
a method, while it controverts the false, provides a remedy, 
in that it exhibits and recommends the true, to be substi- 
tuted in its place. The same process is carried out in the 
discussion of each succeeding subject. First, having de- 
tected, as we think, certain forces at work within society, 
through the observation of certain decided movements, we 
proceed to describe, and so to exhibit them ; next we collate 
these movements and forces with similar ones observable in 
the history of the past, and thus are enabled to attain to a 
clearer insight into the nature and character of such move- 
ments. By studying similar processes in the past, we learn 
how to interpret the present, and what to expect in the fu- 
ture ; moreover, by such a method, we are better able to 
trace the movements observed in the present to their proper 
sources, and to determine whether the principles from which 
they issue be true or false. 

The object of the present volume is, then, (while to a 



INTRODUCTION. XV 

certain extent and within certain limitation analyzing the 
present state of society,) to expose certain errors, which, like 
so many noxious influences, are at work within society, poi- 
soning, corrupting, distracting, and dissolving it. In expos- 
ing these errors we will have to trace them to their sources, 
where we will come in sight of, and in contact with, the 
parent error or principle, from which the subordinate error 
naturally issues. These primal, fundamental, false prin- 
ciples, must be exhibited, exposed, and subverted, — which 
we will essay to do both negatively and affirmatively : neg- 
atively, by showing how and wherein they are false ; affirma- 
tively, by substituting in their place, what is positively the 
truth. In fine, there is, as we have said, a specific con- 
sciousness, the consciousness of the individual person ; and 
there is a generic consciousness, the consciousness of the 
world, and, more specifically, of an age. In a former work, 
entitled Wkai is Religion^ we directed our attention ex- 
clusively towards and upon the individual consciousness : 
we propose in this work to direct our powers of observa- 
tion towards and upon a more general field, the conscious- 
ness of this age. We propose analyzing the facts observ- 
able in this age - consciousness ; directing our attention 
especially to that class of facts which falls within what may 
be designated, specifically, the religious consciousness of the 
age. We propose to exhibit these facts by showing what 
they are in themselves, what are their causes, and what are 
their legitimate and inevitable results. 



PRESENT ISSUES. 



CHAPTER I. 



THE CHUBCH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, ESSENTIALLY 

HUMAN. 

MAN as an order of being may be contemplated under 
two aspects. First, we may regard him as an indi- 
vidual, a personal individual being ; we may regard each 
individual man separatim, irrespective of the rest of that 
rac^ to which by an essential bond he is joined. In fine, 
we may contemplate the individual person, holding him up 
in isolation before us ; or, secondly, we may contemplate him 
as a social being, as one of a race, as the member of an 
organized body, and therefore as essentially related to and 
connected with all the other members of the race. 

Man as an individual stands related to God, his fellow- 
man, to himself ; to the animal or brute creation, and to in- 
animate nature, which he finds himself surrounded by and 
in contact with. Out of the relation in which he stands 
with respect to God, spring duties essentially religious, as 
love, reverence, trust, obedience, and worship ; out of the 
relation in which he stands with respect to his fellow-man 
and the brute creation, issues morals, the system of ethics 
m its social aspects, social morality. Out of the relation in 
which he stands with respect to himself, springs morals, 
2* B 17 



18 THE CHURCH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

ethics as a self-system, personal morality, the morality of 
chastity, temperance, cleanliness, all that pertains to the 
person, soul, or body. And lastly, out of the relation in 
which man stands with respect to inanimate nature, the 
physical creation, springs the morality of aesthetics ; that is, 
man owes it to nature to appreciate, love it ; to use and im- 
prove it, so far as he is able. Ethics, the science of morals, 
then, regarding the individual man as a centre, includes 
the duties one owes to his fellow-man, to beast, to self, and 
to inanimate nature, and brings man under obligation to 
perform the .same ; he owes something to his fellow-men and 
to the brutes, something to himself, and something to the 
inanimate creation by which he is surrounded. As a crea- 
ture, a son of God, he is necessarily a religious being, and 
owes especial duties to God, as his Creator and Father ; 
moreover, as a free agent, placed upon this earth to do 
honor to his Creator, he is responsible to Him for the way 
in which he uses the talents entrusted to his care. He is 
responsible to God for the way in which he conducts him- 
self with respect to the objects among which he finds him- 
self placed ; and if he fail to do his duty in any respect, if 
he fail to meet his obligations as a man, God will require 
it of him. Therefore, although creatureship and sonship 
entail on man certain peculiar duties, corresponding to such 
relationship, free agency carries with it all. It makes man 
a responsible being, responsible to God under all the rela- 
tions in which he finds himself placed. It makes him 
responsible to God for the duties he owes to his neighbor, 
the brutes, and to inanimate nature. It makes him respon- 
sible for any injury he does himself. His soul and body 
are God-given talents; they must be used and improved, 
not wasted, defiled, deformed, or even allowed to lie idle 
and to rust. Out of this relation, in which man as a crea- 
ture, son, and free agent stands with respect to God, his 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 19 

Creator, Father, Sovereign, and Judge, springs Religion. 
The recognition of this relationship and of its consequent 
obligations, the consciousness of this in the human being, 
renders him religious. 

So much for man as an individual ; but man is also, as 
we have said, a social being, mutually connected by a bond 
essential to his nature with every member of his race. 
First he is one of a family ; then of a community, tribe, 
or clan ; then of a state ; and finally, of the world. As a 
social being, man stands related to God only ; and out of 
this relationship springs the cultus of Religion. The social 
relationship of man to God necessitates for its expression 
and manifestation, association ; it gives rise to certain du- 
ties ; and these duties felt, and pressing themselves upon 
the human consciousness, give rise to certain wants. Man 
as a religious social being, feels it incumbent upon him to 
express his sense of reverence, trust, and love to God in a 
public way ; hence public worship. Prayer, the expression 
of trust, love, and dej)endence, is private ; but worship is a 
social act; it springs out of the obligation that man feels 
himself under, publicly and before his fellow-men to ex- 
press his allegiance to and reverence of his Maker. It is a 
public confession made by man, of his relation to, and con- 
sequent duty towards, God. The human race being religious, 
that is, being universally conscious of God, were it not for 
the condition into which it has been plunged by its fall, 
might be expected to present the following exhibition in this 
respect. We would find the whole race associated together 
in an organization more or less general, in organizations cor- 
responding with, or varying, according to their respective 
local situations and political constitutions ; we would find 
men organized under such a religious constitution, in such 
religious associations, worshipping God ; that is, expressing 
their recognition of Him, and of their relation to Him, with 



20 THE CHURCH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

its incumbent duties, in public acts of homage, in public 
prayer, public praise; and constituted as man is, with the 
consciousness of sin and guilt pressing upon him, in the act 
of public sacrifice. Such an association or associations, 
such an organization, having such an object and employing 
such means; such an organization, a solidarity of uniformity, 
or of unity in multiplicity and diversity, having one com- 
mon object in view ; such a human social religious organi- 
zation is, what, in its widest sense, we would denominate 
"the Church." 

Again : association for any purpose, civil or religious, is 
a result ; it springs out of and is necessitated by the social 
nature of man's being ; it is but the realization of man's 
social instinct. Association implies organization ; without 
it, it is chaotic, a contradiction, self-destructive. Organiza- 
tion implies a constitution, either in letter or in spirit, either 
written or unwritten, either a formal compact or a tradi- 
tional constitution, which for the sake of logical consistency, 
men, statesmen and lawyers, assume to have arisen out of 
such a compact or compacts, of an antiquity so great that 
it has been lost; a prescriptive constitution "whereof memory 
runneth not to the contrary." Constitutions are, then, either 
written or unwritten, formal or prescriptive. The prescrip- 
tive constitution, is in reality nothing but an accretion ; a 
deposit of such customs as the social instinct of man in his 
civil or religious relations necessitated, and therefore gradu- 
ally enacted. Such a constitution is an organic growth ; in 
its history it gives us the gradual development of man's social 
nature, either civil or religious, according as the constitu- 
tion relates either to Church or State. The Church, then, 
like the State, is a result, the root of which is in the social 
nature of man. Jean Jacques Rousseau tells us the State 
has its origin in a social compact : if he means to say that 
here the fact begins, that such a compact lies at the very 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 21 

beginning, is the source of the State ; if he means to say- 
that there must be such a compact, either real or fictitious, 
otherwise the State is impossible, he is mistaken. The State 
and the Church begin, not in compact — this is the end, not 
the beginning — they begin in man himself, are a necessity 
of his nature. As man, he is related to his fellow-man ; as 
a moral being, he recognizes this relation and feels its obli- 
gations ; as a moral social being, he is necessitated to asso- 
ciate for civil purposes ; as a religious social being, he is 
necessitated to associate for religious purposes. Being ne- 
cessitated to associate, he must organize; and to organize, he 
must enter into compact, he must place himself under a 
constitution. Here, then, is the point at which the doctrine 
of the social compact comes in for either Church or State. 

The Church, then, like the State, is a result ; a necessity 
of human nature. The State exists because man is a social 
and a moral being ; the Church, because man is a social and 
a religious being. The main stress, in both cases, is to be 
laid on the sociality of man's nature ; in the one case, it is 
the moral, in the other, the religious element that gives its 
name and color to the association. The ethico-political or 
civil association we designate the State ; the religious asso- 
ciation we term the Church. 

Religious association, springing out of the relation in 
which man stands with respect to God, and the recognition 
of the duties and obligations consequent thereunto, has for 
its object the expression of man's sense of this relationship 
and of these consequent obligations. The relation in which 
God stands with respect to man is that of sovereign to sub- 
ject; man recognizes this relationship, and expresses his 
sense of allegiance and subordination in the various acts of 
public worship. As a subject, he does acts of homage ; as 
dependent, he prays ; as an offender, he sacrifices and seeks 
to propitiate* Moreover, in consequence of the recognition 



22 THE CHURCH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

of this relationship, man feels his obligation to do his Sov- 
ereign's will. Necessarily, this will is felt to be the rule of 
the subject's obedience ; hence this will must become the 
organic law in any ecclesiastical organization. The organic 
law, then, of the Church, in its widest definition, is the will 
of God. The Church, in its original and primal concep- 
tion, is man in his social capacity, as a religious being, or- 
ganized under a constitution, written or unwritten, formal 
and definite, or traditional and indefinite, for the purpose 
and with the intent of conforming to the will of God. 
Such is the leading idea in the most general, widest, and 
fundamental conception of that organization known as the 
Church. There are, then, in the one conception of the 
Church, two ideas. In the first, God is regarded as the ob- 
ject of homage, which gives us worship. In the second. 
He is regarded as a sovereign and law-giver, and this gives 
us the idea of obedience. Worship and obedience, both 
having God as their object, these are the two elements 
which an ultimate analysis of the substance of the Church 
necessarily brings to light. Throwing these ideas or elements 
together, we get this, namely : the Church is an organized 
association, under a constitution of some form, wherein men 
worship God, and wherein they are banded together for the 
purpose of mutually encouraging, stimulating, and assisting 
each other in complying with the will of God. In the 
State, we have man as a moral being, in his social capacity, 
enforcing justice, or the moral law ; in the Church, we have 
him as a religious being, in the same social capacity, en- 
forcing the divine law, the will of God. The State uses 
force ; the Church, if true to itself, uses only spiritual and 
moral means to enforce obedience. 

If human nature were in its normal condition, evidently 
the Church would be the organization under which it would 
place itself. The will of the Creator naturally would be 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 23 

the rule of man's obedience ; and no doubt, in time, a con- 
stitution adapted to the wants of human nature, and to the 
enforcement of this end, would naturally arise. Here, then, 
we would have human nature, the whole human race, 
placing itself under the category of the Theocracy. What 
God Himself established in the case of the Israelites, would, 
by man, acting under the pressure of his religious and so- 
cial instincts, be self-established. And though the consti- 
tutions of different peoples and communities might be 
found to differ, varying according to the different genius of 
different peoples, still all would be found under the cate- 
gory of the Theocracy ; that is to say, the organic law of 
each establishment would be the will of God. Herein they 
would be at one; herein would consist their unity; the 
diversity would be in the difference of their respective con- 
stitutions. 

But human nature, as we find it in the actuality, does 
not present such a spectacle. The Theocracy is not a reality ; 
only a speculation. The world has never, under any one 
or under many constitutions, been associated under any 
organization, having for its object compliance with the will 
of God. His will has never been formally declared to be 
the organic law of the world. 

The Jewish establishment presented such a spectacle; 
but it has never been exhibited anywhere else, nor even 
conceived of as being adapted for a world-establishment ; 
certainly not until the second advent of Jesus Christ. The 
grand idea entertained by Jesus Christ was the establish- 
ment of just such a kingdom. Irrespective of race or 
nation. He proposed to associate men together in one grand 
organization, which He calls His, or His Father's Kingdom. 
Making use of man's religious and social instincts, he un- 
dertakes to organize a kingdom ; and since the will of God 
is to be the organic law, the fundamental element, the basis 



24 THE CHURCH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

of unity, in this establishment, in the first place He reveals 
fully to man by word, deed, and life itself, the v/ill of God 
His Father. His life is in itself a self-revelation of God, 
and consequently of the will of God under the conditions 
of sinful humanity. He places Himself in the midst of a 
fallen world, in the very midst of sinful men, and by His 
life He exhibits clearly the Spirit and consequent will of 
God for man, in the situation of a sinner. Here, then, we 
have before us for adoption, as the basis of a w^orld-estab- 
lishment, a ground of unity ; here is the organic law for the 
proposed kingdom, the will of God. 

Next, then, as to the constitution of such an establish- 
ment. Have we any constitution formally proposed by 
Jesus Christ ? Have we any written constitution drawn up 
by Christ Himself for His Kingdom ? Evidently no ; He 
Himself drew up no such constitution. He Himself left no 
such establishment ; but only its rudiments. The Apostles 
were the men appointed by Jesus Christ to organize His 
Kingdom. The spiritual truths and facts of Christianity, 
the means by which the material for the kingdom was to 
be prepared, were entrusted by their Master to His Apos- 
tles. The first thing for them to do was, of course, to enun- 
ciate these truths, and propose them to others for their ac- 
ceptance. The will of God, as revealed in and by Jesus 
Christ, was, therefore, at once preached to others by the 
Apostles, and proposed as the basis for a new religious as- 
sociation. This once being accepted, they proceed imme- 
diately to adopt some form of constitution ; for to organize, 
men must place themselves under some constitutional form. 
Now a constitution may be written or unwritten ; it may be 
either a formal explicit constitution, or an informal one, a 
growth, the result of circumstances. Did the Apostles, 
then, draft any express written constitution for that estab- 
lishment, of which they were the founders ? The material 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 25 

being at hand, their next step was to construct and rear 
the structure. What was this material ? In what did it 
consist ? In the first place, the material consisted of men ; 
religious social human nature, was the fundamental ele- 
ment in that Christian structure, the Church. In the next 
place, it was human nature, or men under certain condi- 
tions. Man as a religious, social being, in his normal 
state is prompted to and necessitated by the dictates of his 
nature to associate and organize as a Church. But the 
Christian Church is something more than the Church under 
this its most general definition. It has other elements in it 
peculiar to it. Like the Church under its general formula, 
the Christian establishment exists only because man is a 
religious, social being. Like it, it is man organized under 
a constitution for religious purposes — the will of God being 
the organic law of the organization. But there are other 
elements in it which the Church in its primal condition 
and definition has not. 

Man, as a religious being, recognizes his relation to God, 
with its consequent duties. The Church, under its primal 
conception, is the result of this recognition. Such an estab- 
lishment or Church, is the organization of man as an inno- 
cent unfallen being. It is the Church of the past, of a 
period that never was, but which might have been, had not 
our forefather Adam fallen. 

The Christian Church has its root in this, that, under it, 

man recognizes God, not only as his Creator and Sovereign, 

but also as his Redeemer or Saviour. The recognition of 

such a relationship carries with it all the feelings, duties, 

and obligations naturally incident thereto. The Christian 

Church is the establishment of fallen humanity, and herein 

it difiers from the Church in its original conception, for 

therein man is regarded in his upright, unfallen condition. 

The Apostles addressed their fellow-men as sinners ; rely- 
3 



26 THE CHURCH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

ing upon the religious and social instincts of humanity, 
having opened to them the peculiar truths and facts of the 
Gospel of Jesus Christ, and having persuaded them of 
their truth ; having exhibited to sinners God in Jesus 
Christ, manifest as a Saviour and Redeemer; having in- 
duced fallen man to recognize and feel the power of this 
newly revealed relationship, its joys, hopes, and its duties; 
depending, we say, upon the social and religious instincts 
of humanity, and knowing the necessities of such instincts, 
they at once proceed to organize those who have experienced 
the power of those truths, the Christian converts, under 
that association, thereafter to be known as the Christian 
Church. In order to such an organization, evidently some 
constitution must be adopted. 

Finding no formal draft of a Church constitution in the 
Christian Scriptures, necessarily we conclude that none 
such was made. The Christian Church has not, then, as its 
basis, any express written formal constitution. Its consti- 
tution, so far as it was Apostolic, was the result of specific 
Apostolic acts. As an establishment, it was an accretion, 
an organic growth ; circumstances revealed necessities, and 
such necessities were met by specific Apostolic action. 

At the time of the formation of the Christian Church 
there was a religious constitution wonderfully adapted to the 
necessities of such an association, and to which no doubt, 
consciously or unconsciously, the Apostles were largely 
indebted. The synagogue constitution is the one to which 
we refer. This system, elastic in its nature, capable of 
indefinite extension, yet orderly, was at that time widely 
prevalent. It existed in Judea itself, and adhered to the 
Jews wherever they were to be found. The Church consti- 
tution of the Hellenists, of the Jews scattered abroad, was 
this synagogue system. In nearly all the cities which St. 
Paul visits, we find him entering into the synagogue, and 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 27 

preaching. Evidently this system was a transition one, a 
form by no means essentially Jewish, prepared in the provi- 
dence of God for the embodiment of the new Christian 
spirit. And this constitution, no doubt, being familiar to 
the Apostles, and being so well adapted to the wants of the 
new society, was the one to which they were indebted in 
their establishment of the Christian ecclesiastical constitu- 
tion. 

The Christian Church, then, so far as concerns the form 
of its constitution, began its life not under the limitations 
of any formal written constitution, but drew upon itself 
wherewith to clothe itself, a form already existing and 
prepared for it, that of the Jewish or rather Hellenistic 
synagogue. Starting then with this elastic, pliable consti- 
tutional form, the Christian spirit drew upon itself, as cir- 
cumstances gradually opened necessities, such additional 
habiliments as it felt that it required. Its constitution was 
not a fixed one, but organic, a growth, the form or body 
which every living spirit must necessarily take upon itself. 

Thus the Apostles having organized the new creation 
which sprung up under their preaching, under the constitu- 
tion of the Hellenistic synagogue, ushered it into existence. 
Behold then a new creation — the Christian Church ! 

The material for the construction of the Christian Church 
was prepared by the Apostolic preaching of the Gospel. 
Under its influence men were first led to know themselves, 
to recognize themselves as the members of a fallen, ruined 
race, as sinners. By it they were convinced, not only of 
their original relation to God as creatures and subjects, but 
were moreover brought to see to recognize and to appreci- 
ate that new relation which God had been pleased to take 
with respect to them as sinners; to view Him as man's 
Saviour and Redeemer. Recognizing this relationship, and 
feeling its obligations, men — such as had been brought into 



28 THE CHURCH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

this state as religious, social beings — were at once ready 
and willing to enter into a new religious association. Here 
then was the material ready. At this point the organizing 
qualifications of the Apostles were called into requisition, 
and as a result we have the constitution of the Church. 

What that was we have seen. Men do not organize 
themselves ; the mass necessarily as such is inactive. Cir- 
cumstances having prepared the way for association, in 
order that the mass should crystallize, the blow must be 
struck ; some movement must be made ; a leader must ap- 
pear to bring the mass into order. This is what the Apostles 
did, having by their preaching secured a mass of material ; 
at once they go to work and bring it into order. Thus 
having obtained an orderly nucleus, and having adopted an 
elastic constitution capable of infinite expansion, the rest 
follows as a matter of course. The Church expands with- 
out losing its organization. 

With this expansion, new wants begin to make themselves 
felt. The synagogue system, though complete in its integral 
parts, was notably deficient in one grand item, namely, 
that of unity. It was deficient in its power of centraliza- 
tion ; had no head, no centre of unity. Each of its parts 
was a whole, complete in itself, and although only one of 
many like parts, still it was a whole ; it was, in fact, the con- 
gregational system ; deficient therefore in unity, and there- 
fore in power, liable moreover to disintegration. With the 
expansion of the Christian Church this defect began at 
once to be felt, and the Christian spirit, true to its instinct 
of self-preservation, undertook immediately to remedy it. 
Here then we are at a point where the constitution of the 
Church begins to modify itself, by adapting itself wisely 
to the exigencies of the situation. 

With the increase of separate congregations of Christians, 
a felt necessity for a higher and stronger bond of unity be- 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 29 

gan to develop itself. The different bodies must be bound 
together, for unity is strength. Hence the use of the Epis- 
copal system, which begins in the effort to unite separate 
congregational bodies; and which subsequently, and in 
accordance with the demand of the Church as it expanded, 
secured its unity in the Metropolitan constitution, in the 
Patriarchate, and, finally, in the Papacy ; and hence, sub- 
sequently, Protestantism and its multiplicity of sects — the 
natural reaction of the Christian spirit against the despot- 
ism of a Papal unity. Evidently the constitution of the 
Christian Church never was, nor is now, a fixed one. It 
will adapt itself to the necessities of the times. The dogma 
which asserts its claim as being an article of the Christian 
creed, that the constitution of the Church is the subject of 
an express revelation, and then that some particular existing 
form is that revealed one, — such a dogma is not Apostolic, 
and therefore of God, but is of man. It is man's effort to 
bolster up his particular sect by attaching to it the Divine 
sanction. It is contradicted by the Scriptures themselves, 
and is in the very teeth of history. It is to be observed 
that in human affairs practice usually precedes doctrine. 
Man acts first, then justifies his act ; at which point the 
doctrine springs up. Thus the original Apostolic constitu- 
tion having been forced by the expansion of the Church, 
and by the pressure of the Christian spirit towards unity, 
to modify itself in some particulars : Being forced, in the 
first place, for greater unity and power, to introduce the 
organization of Dioceses with their Bishops, and so on up to 
the spiritual empire of the Pope : The constitution of the 
Church being thus obliged to vary and to adapt itself to 
circumstances ; at each step in this succession, there were not 
absent those, who would fain have foisted it into the Chris- 
tian creed as a Divine dogma that the then existing form 
of constitution was the divinely instituted one. 
3* 



30 THE CHURCH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

The change having taken place, authority is invoked to 
sanction it. Doctrine must confirm and justify the prac- 
tice. Hence the existence of that dogma wliich every sect, 
every form of church constitution, would appropriate to 
itself, and so justify and confirm its existence as the only 
Divine establishment. 

This fatal dogma, for fatal it is to all church unity, that 
any particular form of church constitution is Divine, and 
therefore essential to the very being of a church, would 
appear in its formal enunciation to date from Augustin, 
Bishop of Hippo. He gave this doctrine its form, and cast 
it into the church, thenceforth to create nothing but ran- 
corous strife and violent persecution. Up to that time 
it had been floating about in the ecclesiastical atmos- 
phere; but only as a vapor. It wanted consistency and 
power. Augustin with his powerful mind gave it what it 
wanted in order to become a power. The idea of the 
Theocracy — that the Christian Church was like its ante- 
cedent, the Jewish, a Theocracy with constitution immu- 
table, irrevocably fixed ; this idea, we say, owes its formal 
origin and its forcible propagation to Augustin. Hilde- 
brand sought to realize it and to make the kingdoms of this 
world all subordinate to him and to his ; in fact, to make 
the world his kingdom ; with what success let history speak. 
This is the root idea of the Papal constitution, and of many 
of the sects falling within the category of Protestantisid. 
For do we not find them all manfully contending for Apos- 
tolic sanction for their particular form of constitution? 
Behold a spectacle, a sight worthy of Christianity which 
inculcates unity and love. Behold a whole host of combat- 
ants, all stripped for the contest, all vociferously wrangling, 
all fiercely assaulting each other, all contending for the 
mastery, mad in the contest for power. Those who get the 
mastery often cruelly persecuting their dissenting brethren, 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 31 

trying to exterminate the detested schismatics. And all 
this because of that fatal dogma, enunciated formally first 
by the autocratic Cyprian, Bishop of Carthage, and after- 
wards unfortunately sanctioned and extended into a system 
by Augustin, Bishop of Hippo, namely, that the church 
in its outward form is by Divine appointment ; and then, 
naturally enough, that the constitutional form of the church 
that then existed was that Divine appointment, and was 
therefore by Divine right — corollary ; — whosoever resisteth 
the ecclesiastical powers that be, resisteth God ; and, as in 
the Jewish Theocracy, shall be cut off. Here, then, Ave are 
at the source of that whole system of spiritual, while at 
the same time painfully physical discipline, of which this 
same Augustin was the author, ending finally in the fagot 
and the stake, and in the pitiless anathema. All this 
because of that fatal dogma, that the Christian Church is a 
second Jewish Theocracy, of which bishops or primates of 
some kind are the administrators, the God-appointed func- 
tionaries. 

In opposition to this whole system, a careful observation 
of the Apostolic planting of Christianity, and of the subse- 
quent development of the Christian Church, teaches, that 
while the Apostles, in organizing Christianity, necessarily 
placed it under the limitation of a constitution, still the 
limits of such a constitution were never accurately defined. 
The church constitution was not intended to exhibit the 
rigidity of the Old Testament Theocracy. But in adopting 
the Hellenistic synagogue system, the Apostles showed the 
value they attached to elasticity and susceptibility of 
adaptation to the necessities of an ever - increasing com- 
munity. The aristocratic and subsequent monarchical 
form which the Christian constitution afterwards assumed, 
was a result of these wise and lenient principles. The con- 
stitution of the Christian Church is then an organic devel- 



32 THE CHURCH, AS AN ESTABI.ISHMENT, 

opment, a fluctuating, and yet at the same time a constant 
element in the Divine system of Christianity. The Chris- 
tian society required organization, and consequently a form 
or constitution ; inasmuch, then, as it relates to some such 
form, there is a constant element; but in so far as that 
form is liable to change, there is too a varying and fluc- 
tuating element in the Christian Church. 

The Christian Church being an organized society of 
Christian men, it is evident that its characteristic feature, 
as distinguishing it from every other religious society, is 
the spiritual condition of its members. There are other 
organized religious societies than the Christian Church. 
Mohammedanism gave rise to such a religious establish- 
ment. Buddhism, Brahminism, both exist as religious or- 
ganizations. Parseeism, the religion of the Persians, nay, 
even the Polytheism of the Greeks and Romans, exist as 
religious organizations. Every religious organization is, 
therefore, not the Christian Church ; is not even a church ; 
for the prime element of any organization calling itself a 
church is, that in it the will of God exists as its organic 
law. This is the object and intent of the organization. 
The Jewish Theocracy was the sole antecedent of the Chris- 
tian Church. The organic law of that establishment was 
the Ten Commandments ; of the Christian Church it is the 
Sermon on the Mount and the whole self-manifestation of 
Jesus Christ. Conformity to Christ, who is God manifest 
in the flesh, and man God-like, the incarnation of the will 
of God for man ; conformity with Him is the organic law of 
the Christian Church. 

Other religious societies had no such organic law under- 
lying their organization and giving rise to it. They only 
existed because man is a religious social being ; arose out 
of the necessity of his nature. They are religious organ- 
ized societies, but not churches, or integral parts of the 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 33 

Catholic Church. The Christian Church is the first effort 
made to organize man, the whole race, in one society, for 
the observation of the will of God. And since man is a 
sinner, the basis upon which it rests, is the recognition of 
this fact, and then of its supplement, the new relation in 
which man as a sinner stands with respect to God by virtue 
of redemption. Starting from the supposition that man 
has appropriated these two grand facts, namely, that he is a 
sinner, and that God now stands to him in the attitude and 
in the relation of a Redeemer ; grounding itself on this 
basis, these truths having entered into and having become 
imbedded in the very consciousness of its members, the 
Christian Church organizes itself, or rather is organized, by 
means of a constitution, into a society whose aim and object 
is conformity with Christ, only another expression, as w^e 
have shown, for obedience to the will of God. And then, 
inasmuch as man in his present state of being is not made 
whole at once ; inasmuch as there is evil always abiding in 
human nature, even unto the end ; inasmuch, therefore, as 
the Church is not an absolutely holy institution, its mem- 
bers not being wholly so, therefore this element of evil has 
to be also taken into consideration, and the Church, to meet 
it, is obliged to adopt some system of discipline. Hence 
arose the system of penances, and hence the meaning of 
the Church's ultimate appeal, when forced in self-justifica- 
tion and for self-protection to encounter the recusant, its 
ban of excommunication. If men on becoming Christians 
ceased to be sinners, penance would not exist ; there would 
be no need for a system of discipline. But inasmuch as 
this is not the case, the Church is bound to apply discipline 
in order to declare its meaning, and for the welfare of its 
members. 

The Christian Church starting in the appropriation by 
men of the great fects of sin and redemption, it is evident 

C 



34 THE CHUECH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

that, in order to its very existence, these two facts must be 
promulgated and received. Hence the distinguishing fea- 
ture of this society, its evangelical or preaching attitude. 
The first thing to be done in order to its existence is that 
men be made Christians ; that they be convinced of those 
two great facts, one upon which the Gospel rests, the other, 
which it propounds : first, that man is a sinner, and next, 
that God has through and by His Son Jesus Christ efiected 
his redemption. Let these two great truths become im- 
bedded in the human consciousness ; let man as a religious 
being realize and feel the obligations of such newly-opened 
relationship between himself and his Maker ; let him be 
thus prepared to undertake obedience to the will of God, as 
revealed in and by Jesus Christ, and then he is prepared 
to be organized under the constitution of the Christian 
Church. By preaching he is a Christian, first in head, then 
in heart. First, he sees the truth, then he feels its force. 
First, he is persuaded, then he is anxious to act. Here, 
then, the Christian Church comes into existence. It re- 
ceives Christian men, forms with them a society, organizes 
them under a constitution elastic and suited to the exigency 
of the times then being. The material out of which the 
Christian Church is constructed is, then. Christian men. 
Man by nature is religious ; through the Gospel or Christi- 
anity believed in and received into the heart, he becomes 
more than religious, he becomes a Christian. He recog- 
nizes his relation to God not merely as a creature and a 
subject, but also as a son and a redeemed being ; and as 
such, he feels bound to God his Saviour by ties of gratitude 
and filial affection. He recognizes God as his Father and 
Jesus Christ as his Saviour, the Son of God, the gift of 
God; himself a manifestation of redeeming love. Being 
thus awakened to the Divine life, and restored through faith 
to a filial relation with respect to God, as a religious being, 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 35 

man voluntarily submits himself to the will of God, which 
he at once perceives to be conformity with the Divine hu- 
man life of Jesus Christ. Moreover, being a social being, 
under the presence of these instincts and in communion 
with all his fellows who have been likewise converted to God, 
at once he feels the necessity of entering into an association 
and forming a religious, a Christian society, for Christian 
purposes. As a religious social being, he must establish the 
Church in the widest acceptation ; as a Christian social be- 
ing, he must organize the Christian Church. The organ- 
izing agency now alone is wanting. That appeared and 
wrought in the Apostles. A constitution, not how^ever writ- 
ten or formal, was adopted, and the Christian Church, under 
the constitution of the Jewish and Hellenistic synagogue, 
was launched into existence. 

The principle which lies at the basis of the Christian 
ecclesiastical establishment is this, namely, that the consti- 
tution, or that which gives form to the Christian society of 
the Church, is not to be considered as of divine appoint- 
ment, not to be considered as immutable. On the contrary, 
it is to be regarded as of human appointment. The con- 
stitution of the primitive Church was chosen and adopted 
as one adapted to the times then being. It was a wise one, 
elastic and capable in its elemental structure of indefinite 
expansion ; but still it must adapt itself to the necessities 
of the conditions under which the Christian society might 
be placed. The Christian Church was not a Jewish Theo- 
cracy, or its mediaeval reproduction the Christian Papacy. 
Its constitution is not the subject of revelation, nor can it 
be exactly gathered from the Apostolic writings. Its ex- 
ternal organization, from the very first, was ever under- 
going modifications. Casting ofi* its congregational syna- 
gogue habiliments, soon among the Gentiles, it began to 
assume a correspondence with the Eoman political system. 



36 THE CHURCH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

The bishop of a territorial diocese corresponds evidently 
with the governor of a political province; naturally the 
metropolitan, the bishop of the principal city of a province, 
becomes the first among his compeers, the primus inter- 
pares; and thus the patriarchate, or exarchate ^- for, in 
fact, this name was first attached to the metropolitan office 
— arose. And then, naturally, in the western empire, 
Rome, the mistress of the world, soon attains the ascen- 
dency ; already, as temporal, she is recognized by the mind 
of the age as supreme, and soon she attains the same posi- 
tion in the ecclesiastical realm. Thus the Papacy arose. 

The idea which stands at the basis of the polity of a 
nation must and will in the end penetrate, and mould into 
its form all the national institutions. The Church must and 
will in the end correspond with the State. Thus Imperialism, 
the idea of the Roman empire, finally penetrated the constitu- 
tion of the Church ; and in the Church we have imperial 
Caesar reproduced. In the spirituo-ecclesiastical despotism 
of the mediaeval Papal theocracy, in a Hildebrand or In- 
nocent III., we have before us the Roman empire on a 
larger and grander scale than any that an Augustus or an 
Antoninus could exhibit. 

Thus, in the end, the State idea pervaded and moulded 
the Church ; and as the temporal idea waned, the spiritual 
or rather the ecclesiastical, waxed, until finally it conquered 
the State, the Pope of Rome becoming the temporal and 
ecclesiastical despot of the whole Christian world. Kings 
trembled at his frown; at his command, an emperor of 
Germany descends his throne ; barefooted tracks his weary 
way through snow and ice to the castle of his infuriated 
master ; for three days out in the cold of mid-winter before 
the gates of his castle, meekly he waits permission to enter 
and to prostrate himself in penitence; at length, being ad- 
mitted, graciously he is permitted to kiss the foot of his 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 37 

most sublime Papal Majesty ; is pardoned and allowed to 
resume his throne. Kings of France and of England, too, 
have felt, and bowed themselves, under the yoke of some 
one of these infuriated spiritual pontiffs. The Imperial 
idea w^as at length realized in the Church. The Pope be- 
comes at length the Caesar of the whole Christian world. 

In human events, as we have said, facts precede theory. 
First the institution, then follows the authority for it ; prac- 
tice or practices thus precede doctrines. The doctrine is 
fabricated in order to explain and justify the practice. So 
in the case of the Papacy, by a natural order in the march 
of historic events, it grew into existence. No such theory 
was in the mind of the Primitive Church. The Apostles 
never propounded it ; true, they foresaw it, and as prophets 
predicted it; but feared it, and warned against it. But 
the Papal constitution having once become a fact, inas- 
much as it called itself the Church, must find authority 
for its existence. To make itself firm it must, if possible, 
prove itself to be God-appointed. Here, then, the doctrine 
of the divine nature of the Papal constitution comes into 
being. So long as it is maintained that the form of Church 
government, its constitution, is not a subject of divine insti- 
tution, all is well ; but let this doctrine be lost sight of, and 
the Papacy will be able to maintain itself 

Now arises the doctrine that Peter is the foundation of 
the Church, that he is chief of the Apostles; that the 
Roman Bishops are the successors of Peter, and succeed to 
his Primacy. Here, then, comes into being a doctrine 
suited to justify the position and the claims of the Eoman 
Bishop to be Lord of the Church. Here appears the 
use of such a code as the " pseudo-Isidorean Decretals,'' 
a case just in point. A pseudo-authority brought in to 
justify an existing fact. The formation of the Papal con- 
stitution, as an ecclesiastical establishment, was complete 



38 THE CHURCH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

when thus the Roman Pontiff gained the supremacy over 
all the other bishops of Western Christendom ; and when 
it was received as a doctrine that he, as the successor of 
Peter, was the spiritual head of the Church. 

But this was not the end, the Pope was to be supreme not 
only in Church, in properly spiritual matters, but also in 
State. The ecclesiastical government was to include in it 
secular matters. The spiritual was to control the temporal. 
Here,*then, the struggle between Church and State formally 
begins. Of course these institutions, all along, ever since 
the triumph of Christianity under Constantino, had been 
more or less coming into collision. The Church had all 
along been infringing upon the rights of the State. There 
is always a preparation for a revolution, its germs have all 
along been developing side by side with the existing insti- 
tutions. The idea of the supremacy of Church over State 
had all along existed in that of the Church as a temporal 
Theocracy. The gradual realization of that idea in the 
ecclesiastical constitution of the Church prepared the way 
for the realization of the same idea in Christendom at large. 
All along the idea of the Christian Church as a temporal 
Tlieocracy had been pressing itself forward upon the mind 
of the ages, seeking its realization. It had succeeded in 
the ecclesiastical sphere ; it would now attempt its absolute 
realization in Christendom at large. The success of this 
idea was, in the ecclesiastical sphere, mainly owing to the 
power of its antecedent, the idea of solidarity, previously 
dominant, the very root-idea of the Roman Empire. This 
prepared the way for the triumph of the Papal constitution 
both in Church and State. The Theocracy was to become 
again an absolute fact in history. Once it existed as a 
Jewish constitution. Now again it was to reproduce itself 
in Christendom. The " pseudo-Isidorean Decretals '* being 
once received as authority, the whole Papal Theocratic 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 39 

system, with all its Hierarchical Despotism, having the 
Pope at its head as the Vicar of Christ, was forever fas- 
tened upon the Church as being its Divinely-appointed 
constitution. The triumph of the ecclesiastical over the 
secular, the realization of the Papal Theocratic idea in all 
its fullness, was now but a matter of time. 

" In these forged Decretals the Papal theocratic system 
is set forth with a completeness and pushed to an extreme 
never before expressed in any connected series of ecclesiasti- 
cal laws. The idea of an inviolable caste of priests conse- 
crated to God, the fundamental element out of which the 
entire hierarchical system was composed, and the basis on 
which it reposes, was brought out and defended by employ- 
ing and perverting Scriptural texts, especially from the Old 
Testament, in a manner the most bold and the most directly 
at variance with the spirit of the Gospel. The Priests 
were represented as the apple of God's eye, the familiares 
Dei, the spiritales as opposed to the carnales, the term 
which was applied to the laity. Whoever sinned against 
them sinned against God himself, as they were the repre- 
sentatives of God and Christ. Men were to see Christ in 
them. The priests were subject^ to no secular tribunal; on 
the contrary, God had constituted them the judges over all. 
The passage in Ps. Ixxxii. 1, was often applied to them : 
* God standeth in the congregation of the mighty.' * He 
judgeth among the gods.' All who were oppressed should 
be able to look to the priests, and with them find protec- 
tion. It is carefully inculcated that bad priests, if they do 
not fall from the faith, must be tolerated, as sent by God, 
and that the laity should in no case be set as judges over 
them. Complaints against ecclesiastics are hedged around 
with the greatest possible number of difiiculties. And in 
that state of the Church, when a large portion of the clergy 
was so^ destitute of personal dignity, it was in truth neces- 



40 THE CHURCH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

sary to maintain the dignity of tlie Priesthood that it should 
be rendered as independent as possible of personal worth. 
If the priests should once come to be regarded as organs 
for the transmission of magical virtues, — as it is made a 
prominent point in these Decretals, that by the priests' 
words Christ's body is produced, — with this could easily be 
associated the idea, that, although it were greatly to be 
wished the priests should by their personal character 
always prove to be worthy organs, yet, even independent 
of this personal worth, they must ever be regarded w^ith 
reverence, as the vehicle through which these Divine virtues 
are communicated to men. The inviolability of the Church 
is sharply defined and strongly insisted upon, as well with 
reference to the property, as to the persons consecrated to 
its service ; a trespass against this inviolability is repre- 
sented as sacrilegium — a sin against God, the most enor- 
mous of crimes. 

" The principles inculcated with regard to the objective 
importance of the priesthood generally, were now applied 
especially to the office of bishops as those to whom the 
power to bind and loose had been given by Christ. Men 
should respect even the unjust decision of a bishop, though 
the latter ought to be careful never to make such a decision. 
Thus, the fear of the ecclesiastical sentence was alone to be 
strongly impressed upon the laity. The bishops were espe- 
cially represented as inviolable persons, to be protected 
against both the arbitrary will of secular power and also 
the attack of other ecclesiastical authorities, such as the 
Metropolitans with whom the Bishops in the Frankish em- 
pire were frequently in dispute. The only means for main- 
taining the inviolability and independence of the bishops 
was for them to possess, in a head, over the entire church, 
a secure refuge against every arbitrary procedure and op- 
pressive measure on the part of the secular power, and of 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 41 

their ecclesiastical superiors and colleagues ; to make tlie 
Pope the judge over the bishops, in the last resort, from 
whom there could be no appeal. Thus, then, was presented 
a coherent organism of ecclesiastical power, evolved in a 
regular gradation. Over the Metropolitans were placed the 
primates and patriarchs. But over all presided the Bishop 
of Rome as the successor of Peter, on whom in particular 
Christ had conferred the power to bind and to loose. It 
was repeatedly inculcated that the Church of Rome was 
directly constituted head over all the others by Christ him- 
self. The episcopal chair of Peter, the princeps Aposto- 
lorum, had been transferred on grounds of convenience from 
Antioch to Rome. Moreover, it is already intimated in 
these decretals that the Emperor Constantino had trans- 
ferred his sovereign authority in Rome to the Roman 
Bishop." * Here, then, w^e have in its full development the 
establishment of the whole Hierarchical Papal Theocracy ; 
as an ecclesiastical constitution it is complete. The idea of 
the Pope as the head of a temporal Theocracy is completely 
realized in the ecclesiastical sphere, and the germ of the 
subsequent triumph of this same idea, in and over the state 
is clearly visible. Here we are at the root of the doctrine 
of the Pope's temporal sovereignty, and for the complete 
triumph of this idea, time only is necessary. Here, then, is 
the doctrine which justifies the position of the Papal su- 
premacy in both Church and State. In Hildebrand this 
idea entered upon the process of its final realization, and 
after a period of intense conflict, was realized ; thenceforth 
for many ages to come the Church, or rather the Papacy, 
was recognized as being at the head of the world. Thence- 
forth the Pope was recognized as the Lord of Christendom. 
It is evident that the idea of such a Theocracy floated 

"^ Neander's Hist, of the Christian Eeligion and Church, Vol. III., 
pp. 348, 349. 
4^ 



42 THE CHURCH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

vaguely before the mind of Gregory the Great ; but the idea 
was only then in embryo. It remained to be defined as in 
these pseudo-Isidorean Decretals, and then to be realized by 
Hildebrand, — a man of the time whose mind had been 
wholly imbued with it, — a man whose one idea it was, that 
the Church through its Divinely-appointed constitutional 
form, the Papacy, was designed to rule the world. " The 
idea of a religious, moral dominion over the world to be 
administered by the Papacy," this was the one idea of Hil- 
debrand, and he sacrificed his life in the realization of it. 

The Papal constitution as realized in a Hildebrand, in 
an Innocent III., and in a Boniface VIII., though not now 
practicable in its application to the temporal powers, is still 
the received constitution of the Roman Church. But lately 
a general council of that church has seen fit to clothe its 
Pontiff with the powers of Infallibility. And this, in all 
questions of morals as well as of faith. Evidently, every- 
thing is contained in such a grant. The infallible one is a 
god on earth ; his binding and loosing, if received as this 
doctrine requires that it should be, is obligatory on the con- 
science. His tribunal is then that of God, final ; he can 
save and he can destroy. Evidently, such an infallible 
being is God upon earth, and if he but realize his preroga- 
tive, he can not but govern all the kingdoms of the world. 

The Christian ecclesiastical constitution has then passed 
through three successive stages : first, the Apostolic, secondly, 
the Episcopal, and thirdly, the Papal, which last at the 
present time exists in full force, and exercises a despotic 
sway over two-thirds of Western Christendom. 

Protestantism, along with other things, was a reaction 
against the ecclesiastical absolutism of the Papal constitu- 
tion. All along, during the gradual evolution of the Pa- 
pacy, we can observe evidences of such a reaction. The 
Christian spirit is essentially a free one, opposed to tyranny 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 43 

of any kind. Thus, all along, we find traces of a contest 
for freedom of opinion and for the liberty of selecting its 
own ecclesiastical form, carried on by some one or other 
body or sect in the Church ; sometimes this contest seems to 
have been waged almost single-handed. The Protestant 
spirit was not a new one ; it had ever existed in the body of 
the Church, and many of the sects persecuted by the domi- 
nant party, and branded as heretics and schismatics, were 
but the forerunners and harbingers of the Reformation 
movement of the sixteenth century. 

The reformation movement contains in itself two forces. 
It is the revolt of the spirit of the age against the absolu- 
tion of the Papal Hierarchical constitution ; and at the same 
time, it is a re-awakening of the Christian consciousness to 
the power of the truths of Redemption. As an event in 
history it was not a sudden one, nor should have been un- 
expected. On the contrary, it had been long brcAving ; its 
causes had been long operating, the time for the issue had 
at length arrived. Luther struck the blow, and behold a 
rotten structure at once falls to pieces, and a new form be- 
gins to rise into existence. The prime force in this move- 
ment was a spiritual one ; the consciousness of the age had 
been, as was that of the Roman Empire at the time of the 
rise of Christianity, prepared to welcome and receive the 
life-giving truths of Redemj)tion. The age had grown 
weary of the miserable apology for Christianity offered by 
Romanism. The dreary formality, absolute deadness of re- 
ligion as then administered, ceased to satisfy the conscience 
and the wants of humanity. The rottenness of the whole 
then ecclesiastical constitution, the barefaced wickedness 
of those calling themselves the successors of St. Peter, and 
of the whole swarm of the Apostolic successors, called to 
high heaven for vengeance. Men felt that a religion of 
such a kind was a mere mockery. The age was prepared 



44 THE CHUECH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

for and wanted something better and more true. Hence 
the preaching of the gospel came with power ; at the same 
time, the press, just then coming into action, served as an 
engine for disseminating the truth, and so the flame was 
fimned. The spirit of freedom reasserted itself, there was a 
revolt against the absolutism of the Papacy, both as a spirit- 
ual and as an ecclesiastical despotism. 

In Protestantism, as now existing, we have the- result of 
this revolution. Protestantism, as it is constituted at pres- 
ent, consists of fractions, each of them complete in itself; 
all taken together making up the unity of the whole. Each 
one of these fractions has its own peculiar form of church 
constitution. Of the great bodies constituting Protestan- 
tism, some have adopted the Episcopal system, others the 
Presbyterian, others again the Congregational. None have 
as yet again reached the unity or absolutism of the Papal 
constitution. Those who have adopted the Episcopal must 
necessarily gravitate towards the higher unity of the Pa- 
pacy. Those who have adopted the Presbyterian must 
either disintegrate, becoming congregational, or must grad- 
ually tend to the closer unity of the Episcopacy. The con- 
gregational body naturally will gravitate to the more com- 
pact unity of Presbyterianism, and then, on, upwards. The 
tendency of the age, perhaps of all ages, is towards central- 
ization and final absolutism ; after which follows revolt, 
disintegration, and then a repetition of the same process. 
The Protestant bodies have but adopted organizations 
which have had already existence in the previous history 
of the Church at different stages of its evolution. Each of 
these bodies stands by itself, not organically connected with 
any other, therefore formally isolated. Each of these stagea 
had its own peculiar cultus in harmony with the then pres- 
ent development of the Church. Thus, in the primitive 
stages, when the Church was weak in numbers, and poor in 



ESSENTIALtY HUMAN. 45 

worldly goods, the cultus of the Church was correspondent. 
But as the Christian community increased in numbers and 
in wealth, its cultus necessarily expanded and adapted itself 
to the tastes of those who were its members, until finally it 
had reached its climax in the grand cathedral architecture 
of Medisevalism, with its corresponding gorgeous ritual of 
worship. Necessarily such an evolution will take place, the 
cultus of a community will correspond and be in harmony 
with its sesthetic taste. A community which is ascetic will 
despise all culture ; one that is simple will adopt plainness 
and simplicity in its cultus ; but a community that is highly 
refined and w^ealthy will have a cultus that is elegant, and 
perhaps even gorgeous. 

Protestantism adopts all these elements in adopting as its 
constitutional forms those of the different stages of the 
Church. It incorporates with them their corresponding 
cultus. Thus some of its bodies have a rigid and austere 
cultus. Its churches are bare houses, its ritual devoid of 
aesthetics. Others, though not so rigid, aim at simplicity, 
frowning down all that favors sestheticism ; while others 
again have adopted a more liberal cultus, one which admits 
of all the culture of aesthetics, and which naturally leans 
towards Mediaevalism. None, however, have yet reached 
the gorgeousness and magnificence of mediaeval Catholicism. 
The cathedral is still the legitimate property of the Roman 
Catholic Church. 

The constitutional form adopted by each of the various 
bodies constituting Protestantism was in each case acci- 
dental and but the result of circumstances. Thus English 
Protestantism, inasmuch as those in authority both in Church 
and State indorsed it, was enabled to retain its original con- 
stitution. In this case a radical revolution was unneces- 
sary. The State led the way ; the whole Church constitution, 
with its established Episcopacy, had only to be cut loose 



46 THE CHURCH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

from its coiinectiou with the Papacy, and to reform its 
formularies of doctrine and Avorship, and the change was 
eficcted. This was properly a reformation ; upon the Conti- 
nent the movement was rather of the nature of a revolt, or 
of a secession. 

The Church of England retained, then, its whole consti- 
tutional form, and with it, a ritual and complete cultus cor- 
responding to such a form of church establishment. The 
same thing occurred in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark. 
The State and Church, in their then existing constitutional 
forms, moving together and indorsing the reform move- 
ments, the change was effected without any radical revolu- 
tion. In Germany, Switzerland, and in France, however, 
it was different ; here the former constitution, both in Church 
and State — in the Church entirely, and in the State, in Ger- 
many, almost so ; in France, entirely so — resisted the move- 
ment, trying to put it down by force. Here, then, a revolt 
became a necessity. And as it happened, the revolt, as di- 
rected against the ecclesiastical constitution, was complete 
and successful. The Episcopacy remained firm in its oppo- 
sition to the movement, so that a new ecclesiastical constitu- 
tion must needs arise in order to embody this new spirit. 

The Presbyterianism of Calvin, and the Lutheranism of 
Luther, give us this result. In the one case, the revolution 
was thorough ; in the other, not so entire, for Lutheranism 
retained much of the cultus of its Roman antecedent. Up 
to the time of this revolt, the doctrine of passive obedience, 
both in Church and State, had been exclusively maintained. 
But the Keformation, springing out of a revolt of the Chris- 
tian consciousness against ecclesiastical despotism, thence- 
forth established and legitimated such a position. The 
doctrine of passive obedience was met by the right of revo- 
lution, as being a legitimate one. In this movement the 
spirit of freedom asserted its rights, and now it is held that 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 47 

crying abuses necessitate and authorize revolution, both in 
Church and State. The legitimate exercise of such a right 
must of course forever be a delicate matter, requiring a cool, 
deliberate judgment ; nevertheless, that it is now a right 
has been established by the Protestant movement. It is but 
too easy to push this doctrine to an extreme, and so to at- 
tempt to justify with its sanction every causeless revolu- 
tionary movement ; and such has already but too often been 
the case in the history of Protestantism, which now finds 
itself reduced by disintegration into numberless atomic de- 
nominational particles. But in the end a reaction will take 
place, and the movement will be towards unity and central- 
ization ; and no doubt along with such centralization, the 
doctrine of passive obedience will again begin to exercise a 
controlling influence upon the mind of the age. There is 
already a gravitation perceptible in that direction. The 
disadvantage of this system and the danger of the abuse 
of this doctrine are already beginning to exert a reactionary 
influence. Thus the same principles which are involved in 
the action and reaction of centrifugal and centrij^etal forces 
are applicable to the movements of society. First, it gravi- 
tates towards centralization, and as the absolutism becomes 
tighter, the tendency to fly off* becomes stronger ; and at 
length, when the absolutism becomes thorough, a despotism, 
the tendency to fly off* becomes actualized, a fact, and we 
have revolt and secessions — we have Protestantism. Re- 
verse the process, and you have the gradual involutionism 
of despotism, either in Church or State. Man is a free 
agent and will resist force. Left to himself, he will seek 
union and unity ; but forced into it, or held in it, he will 
rebel, and seek to reattain his freedom. 

Protestantism consisting of separate and independent 
societies, each having its own peculiar constitution, is with- 
out any outward unity. Provided each of these establish- 



48 THE CHUECH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

ments acknowledge the right of every other to its own 
particular form ; provided none of these bodies arrogate to 
itself, for its own form, a Divine right, as exclusive of the 
others, there might exist harmony and peace between them 
all, and Protestantism, though not united in form, would 
still remain one in spirit ; and as thus in unison, might 
work, each in its own harness, in promoting the common 
cause of Christianity, and in perfect harmony. This was, 
in fact, the state of things for some time after the Reforma- 
tion, but was not destined to be of long continuance. The 
Papacy had claimed for itself, for many ages, the sanction 
of a Divine institution, and rested on this basis the duty of 
a passive obedience, as due from all its members. Protes- 
tantism denied this premise, rebelled against the conclu- 
sion, and established in opposition to it the right of revolu- 
tion. Soon, however, we find this position of Romanism 
reappearing within the Protestant bodies, several under- 
taking to arrogate to themselves an express Divine right 
or Apostolic institution; thus, of course, placing themselves 
in antagonism with the other Protestant bodies. Two bodies, 
each holding to such a doctrine, must in the end find them- 
selves actually opposed to each other. Thus, instead of har- 
mony, w^e soon find discord, nay, more, hostility. Further- 
more, with this doctrine of the exclusive Divine right of 
any particular form of church constitution, returned that 
of passive obedience. And thus those bodies which refused 
to submit themselves to the authority of any such arrogant 
section were, and are still, provoked by being branded as 
schismatics. Thus there is a return to the position of Ro- 
manism, and Protestantism finds itself in a state of conflict. 
The true solution of the matter is, for Protestantism to main- 
tain its original logical position, namely, that the form or 
organization which Christian society, or any portion of it, 
adopts, is simply a matter of expediency, not of doctrine ; 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 49 

that the constitution of the Church, so far as it relates to 
its outward form, its manner of organization, is not the sub- 
ject of revelation, nor as Apostolic was it intended that the 
form adopted by them was to be permanent. The constitu- 
tion they adopted was suited to the times then being ; it 
may not l^e so now. Each people and nation is to judge of 
this matter for themselves, and to adopt such an ecclesias- 
tical constitution as may be best suited to its own peculiar 
genius and to the state of the times. With such a rational 
position, the doctrine of passive obedience must necessarily 
disappear. 

The evolution of the Papal constitution is an accom- 
plished fact. The climax of absolutism has been reached, 
and already there are manifest signs of a disintegration, of 
a reaction, manifest first in the defection of the Protestant 
bodies, and again repeating itself in the movement of the 
Old Catholics, as they style themselves, now taking place 
in Europe. The ecclesiastical constitution, by a gradual 
evolution, reached a turning-point in the absolutism, the 
ecclesiastical despotism of the Papacy. Another stage in 
this process has now begun. The process of disintegration 
is now powerfully at work within the Christian community. 
It began in the sixteenth century in the great defection of 
Protestantism. Within Protestantism itself the process is 
still being continued, sect after sect arising and claiming 
for itself independent existence. In the Roman Church 
the same process is going on, and the declaration of Papal 
Infallibility by the late Roman ecclesiastical council served 
only to strike another blow against the solidarity of that 
establishment. Its result is the Old Catholic movement in 
Germany, which ominously threatens the Papacy with an- 
other grand secession movement. 

This disintegration must for a time continue ; it is the 
refaction of the spirit of freedom agairist the bondage of 
5 • p 



50 THE CHUKCH, AS AN ESTABLISHMENT, 

absolutism. Like all movements, it will be carried to an 
extreme, until at length its abuses being perceived, and 
men beginning to feel that division is weakness, will finally 
come to themselves, and the movement towards unity will 
begin to take place. There are evident indications that 
such a movement is already brewing. The weakness caused 
by disintegration and dismemberment is already being felt ; 
and while it still continues to take place, yet there are also 
signs of a reaction already manifest jn many of the great 
Protestant bodies. Thus it is with all human movements : 
the death of one force carries in it the resurrection of an- 
other, — the germ of the new is in the decaying seed of 
the old. 

Such, in brief, is a sketch of the evolution of the ecclesi- 
astical constitution of the Christian community of Western, 
and in most of its points of Eastern, Christendom, from its 
earliest rise, under the Apostolic administration down to 
the present times. Four stages there are in all : the Apos- 
tolic or primitive, the Episcopal, the Papal, and finally the 
Present; a mixed condition, presenting on the one hand 
the absolutism of the Papacy, and on the other the free- 
dom, almost license, of Protestantism. What is to be the 
fifth stage in this process. Prophecy alone can declare; 
we can only conjecture. We can perhaps explain the past, 
but not predict the future ; the problem is one too com- 
plicated for us to solve. 

Evidently the Church, like the State, is a human estab- 
lishment. Human nature, as moral and social, demands 
and constructs some form of body politic. As social and 
religious, human nature constructs some form of religious 
polity, which, had man not fallen, would have been, in its 
widest sense, the Church. As social and religious, but 
more as Christian, pervaded by that Divine life which 
emanates from Christ, the Head, and which flows into all 



ESSENTIALLY HUMAN. 61 

united to Him by faith ; as Christian, human nature de- 
mands and constructs that ecclesiastical polity termed the 
Church. The constitutional form adopted in such a polity 
is a matter determined by man ; there is none expressly 
laid down in Scripture. Man is just as in the case of the 
State, to choose and construct for himself. History, in re- 
cording the various changes which have taken place in the 
long process of the Hierarchical evolution, demonstrates 
that this is the true view of the subject — as an establish- 
ment, the Church is essentially human. Its life or Spirit 
is Divine ; its form is human. Such is the only consistent 
Protestant position. 



CHAPTER II. 

SACERDOTALISM. 

WITH the infusion of the new wine of Christianity into 
the old bottles of the ancient world, a fermentation 
commenced. The old bottles of the ancient ecclesiastical 
establishments must burst and give way, to be succeeded 
by new forms, suited to that vigorous and ever-expanding 
force which had now been introduced within the world. 
Christianity required a form in which to manifest itself, and 
through which it could operate, internally upon itself, and 
externally upon the world. Such a form was adopted by 
the Apostles. It becomes necessary next to examine into 
the nature of this constitution. What, then, were the ele- 
ments of this organization ? 

It being necessary, in the first place, that the Jewish 
and heathen mind and heart should be Christianized in 
order to the very existence of the Church, it is evident that 
the very first thing to be done was to promulgate the truths 
of Christianity, to preach the Gospel. This was the first 
great work of the Apostles, and must ever be the funda- 
mental law of the Christian Church. Next, men having 
been Christianized, and living as a society placed under a 
constitution giving form to such an association, a reaction- 
ary work has to be wrought. For the new converts, though 
Christianized, are still ignorant as to Christian truth, are 
still sinners liable to transgress and even to lapse ; there- 
fore for such a society, teachers, prophets, and rulers are 

62 



SACERDOTALISM. 53 

necessary. To meet these necessities of this newly-organized 
society, the All-wise Spirit had prepared the necessary ma- 
terial. " And He gave some Apostles, and some prophets, 
and some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers ; for 
the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, 
for the edifying of the body of Christ." 

During the Apostolic age, the Apostles themselves, 
through their preaching and writings, were the fountains 
and source of all Christian truth. But as the Christian 
community expanded, there arose a necessity for a greater 
number of spiritual teachers. No teachers, however, could 
occupy the position of the Apostles ; they alone received 
the truth immediately and intuitively ; they alone were 
the source of inspired revelation. With them inspiration, 
in its highest sense, ceased. All who succeeded them were 
but expositors. The truth which they revealed having 
been appropriated by others, enabled them in turn to be- 
come teachers and preachers, and this was the method of 
procedure for the Church for all succeeding times. 

The Apostles perceiving the need of the Christian com- 
munity for a larger supply of instructors, at once applied 
themselves to meet it. In this community were men differ- 
ing in gifts, some being adapted to teach, 8L6dvxa%oo ; others 
to exhort and persuade, rtpo^T^Tfai, ; and others again gifted 
with the art of ruling, TtpsviSvtspoc, In accordance with 
such differing adaptations, they made their selections. They 
appointed in each community some evangelists whose duty 
it should be to itinerate and preach the Gospel at large. 
Others they appointed to teach, that is, to explain, expound, 
and apply the revealed word to the consciences of their 
hearers. Others, who were peculiarly gifted naturally, and 
by the Spirit, with the powers of eloquence, who could 
move the affections, and could arouse the consciences even 
of unbelievers, who could at times even look into the future, 
5^ 



54 SACERDOTALISM. 

these prophets, were appointed by the Apostles to preach 
and address themselves to the unconverted who might 
attend the Christian assemblies. These preachers would 
be most useful in the conversion of men ; the teachers, on 
the other hand, were best adapted to the edification of be- 
lievers ; and this difference has ever continued to exist in 
the Church. There has always been a class of preachers 
peculiarly fitted to the conversion of sinners, and another 
class best suited for the exposition of the Word. The first 
class is composed of men of enthusiastic temperament, who 
appeal in moving terms to the consciences of men, and 
move them by their intense earnestness. The second class 
consists of men of cooler, calmer temperament ; men whose 
forte is knowledge, men of searching understanding, stu- 
dents of the Word, and therefore more fitted to the building 
up of the Church in the yvwcjis' of the Word. These are the 
prophets and the teachers of ancient and of modern times. 

Another class was selected by the Apostles to be the 
rulers of the community, who were to judge of the profi- 
ciency of the teacher or prophet. These were the Presby- 
ters or elders; they governed the community and were 
chosen to this ofiice because of their adaptation for it. 
Whether these Presbyters were originally teachers as well 
as rulers does not certainly appear. But very soon, as the 
supernatural fell into the background, and the natural be- 
came more prominent, it appears that the Presbyter was 
at the same time the teacher, spiritual guide, or Pastor of 
the Christian community. 

Thus, then, the Apostles met the rising necessities of the 
Church ; they found the material ready at hand, being pre- 
pared by the Spirit, and springing out of the differing gifts 
and adaptations of individuals. 

The Apostles themselves, in the first place, selected and 
appointed these various officers. But here, again, a change 



SACERDOTALISM. 55 

was soon necessitated. St. Paul, as the Apostle to the Gen- 
tiles, founded the majority of the Christian churches among 
the Gentiles. Finding soon his inability to give his per- 
sonal attention to meet the pressing demands of these vari- 
ous communities ; being finally imprisoned, and consequently 
unable to attend to such matters at all, we find him soon 
commissioning two of his trustworthy disciples, Timothy and 
Titus, to take his place in the administration of this trust. 
To each of them he indites an epistle, to Timothy two, giv- 
ing them explicit directions as to their manner of procedure 
in the performance of the trust, esjDecially in the appoint- 
ment of the various officers of the Church. Thus Timothy 
and Titus are expressly authorized by this Apostle to act in 
his place. But that any after them and besides them were 
so commissioned, does not appear. Theirs was a special 
case. They were appointed by St. Paul for peculiar rea- 
sons ; first, because of the largeness of his field, and further, 
because of his frequent arrests and imprisonments, which 
excluded him from the superintendence of the churches. 

With the Apostles and these especial Apostolic legates 
the Apostolic office ceased. Thenceforth the Church was 
left to select and appoint its own officers. The churches 
chose them, the Presbyters appear to have formally installed 
such officers elect in their respective offices. One other 
office was of Apostolic institution, namely, the diaconate. 
This appears to have been the first office created by the 
Apostles, it is therefore the oldest. This office, however, 
belongs to the administrative rather than to the spiritual 
branch of the Church. To the Deacon pertained the ad- 
ministration of the alms, and subsequently, the funds of 
the community, it being his especial duty to see that the 
Christian poor should be properly and justly supplied from 
such funds. The Deacon, however, if possessed of the 
ability, evidently, w^as entitled to preach. All these offices 



56 SACERDOTALISM. 

were originally filled by the Apostles themselves. No doubt 
the Christian community electing and presenting the candi- 
date, and the Apostles, having judged of his qualifications 
for the office, appointing him or rejecting him. This orderly 
condition of things was not of course immediate. The con- 
dition of the Christian community at the first, like that of 
all new societies, was chaotic ; there was a great ferment 
and confusion ; no organization ; the material ready, but 
the organizing hand must first put it in order. Thus this 
order was a growth ; the community was gradually reduced 
to order, and an organization adopted suited to the necessi- 
ties of the new community. The fundamental principle of 
the new Christian community being that all Christians are 
equally, through the mediation of Jesus Christ, priests unto 
God, there could originally have been no line of demarca- 
tion between ministers and people. There was no such 
thing in the Christian Church as a formal priesthood. All 
Christians were equally Priests and kings unto God, and 
beside such a priesthood, there was none other. The facts 
of redemption appropriated, teach men, make them in fact 
conscious that they are now, through the mediation of Jesus 
Christ, equally related to God. One spirit of adoption fills 
all believing hearts, and the man who has appropriated 
Christ's redemption himself, feels that his whole life must 
be but a sacrifice, a free-will and thank-offering unto God, 
in gratitude for the grace of redemption. Therefore all 
believers are priests ; and in any other sense there is none 
other than Christ himself, the great High Priest, the Medi- 
ator of this New Covenant, by whom we all have access, 
through one Spirit, into this grace wherein we stand and 
rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. 

Equality in relation to God does not, however, do away 
with the difference of natural gifts. Men naturally differ 
in talents and in dispositions. Christian men do likewise. 



SACERDOTALISM. 57 

The Holy Spirit does not change man's natural parts. He 
only sanctifies them, heightens their intensity and force 
sometimes, and so uses them for, and in His own service. 
There were charismata, peculiar and but temporary, in- 
tended for the benefit of the Church, at its first exhibition, 
such as speaking with tongues, working miracles and 
prophesying in its highest sense. These gifts have all passed 
away. But there are also lasting charismata, depending on 
the natural endowments of men. Endowments taken pos- 
session of by the Holy Spirit and made subservient thence- 
forth to the glory of the kingdom of Christ. These must 
always, therefore, be the basis of a selection to fill the va- 
rious ofiices in the Church. Though, then, there is no such 
caste by right in the Church as the sacerdotal, there is a 
flock, a people, and there are pastors and teachers, and pres- 
byters, and if the times so demand, bishops, and patriarchs, 
and ultimately Popes. 

Here, then, let it be observed, we are at a point from 
which the whole sacerdotal system begins to be evolved. 
It has its root and origin in the idea of a priesthood as a 
spiritual caste. Taking this term in its Jewish, or even its 
heathen acceptation, a priest, strictly speaking, is a media- 
tor, one who, as man's representative, stands between God 
and man ; who offers gifts and sacrifices for man to God. 
He is therefore the mediator through whom man approaches 
God ; and on the other hand, he is the medium through 
which God communicates his grace to man. This was the 
idea that Avas destined to take possession of the Christian 
mind. Out of it w^as evolved that whole mediaeval sacerdotal 
despotism, which finally conquered the Church, and from 
which it has never yet escaped. Even Protestantism is still 
in bondage under it, to a great extent — almost entirely, we 
may truly say. 

This idea of priesthood as mediating between God and 



58 SACERDOTALISM. 

man was the prominent one of the Old Testament dispensa- 
tion, and was, though not so well defined nor understood, 
widely diffused throughout the heathen world. It could not 
then be expected to vanish at once, but would fight hard to 
regain its former supremacy before it would be suppressed. 

The Christian consciousness through the appropriation 
of the truths of E-edemption, in a vivid manner was at first 
entirely free. All Christians felt themselves through the 
mediation of Jesus Christ reconciled to God and restored to 
communion with Him. The Christian consciousness at first, 
then, felt no need of a Mediator other than Jesus Christ, 
and was in no danger of receiving the Jewish sacerdotal 
idea into itself But soon the appropriation of the truths 
of Redemption became less vital ; the Christian conscious- 
ness of Redemption less vivid, and then the previously 
dominant Jewish idea began again to assert itself and to 
claim a readmission into the Christian consciousness. There 
was a reaction, and the idea of a priesthood began again to 
assert its power. 

Again ; the reascendency of the sacerdotal idea is attrib- 
utable to another cause. Religion among the Jews and the 
Gentiles, in its whole theory and in public worship, its high- 
est act, was thought to consist only in acts, acts often devoid 
of any indwelling spirit, simply mechanical, legal acts. Re- 
ligion was a system of externalities, a routine whereby God, 
or the gods, were considered propitiated and served. It 
was not a spirit which should pervade the whole life, so that 
every thought, word and deed, having reference to God, 
should in a certain sense be a religious act. This was a 
later: the Christian idea. Religion was considered as 
something extra, to be put on and assumed on certain 
times and occasions. The whole life might be a godless 
one, — God might be an outcast from the mind, so far as He 
is a controlling influence in the consciousness, — and yet by 



SACERDOTALISM. 59 

a certain round of acts, as, by presenting gifts and offer- 
ings, by paying respect to days and feasts, the religious con- 
sciousness was satisfied, and this was considered being reli- 
gious. It was the priest's duty to attend to religion ; the 
people were only occasionally to recognize their God. This 
routine idea of religion, taken hold of by the great philoso- 
pher of China, was carried out to its full extent. With him 
manners were religion ; to be courteous was to be religious, 
not according to the Christian principle, because courtesy 
is the will of God ; but in itself. Confucius refers seldom 
to God, whom he seems to apprehend after a peculiar 
manner, designating Him, Heaven. Religion, according to 
Confucius, does not spring out of the consciousness of the 
relation in which man stands with respect to God. No ; 
religion consists in a certain form of deportment ; in respect 
for the ancients. It springs out of the relation of man to 
man ; is good manners. Etiquette in all its relation to pub- 
lic and private life, is the form, the expression, the mani- 
festation of religion. Not that he would separate the soul 
of etiquette from its expression and make it untrue and 
hypocritical ; on the contrary, he teaches the spirit of eti- 
quette, as well as manners, its expression. But in this, in 
true sincere good manners, according to him, lies the essence 
of religion. He loses sight of God, making religion spring 
out of man's relation to man ; wherein is practical panthe- 
ism. The Jew and heathen would make religion consist in 
a round of religious observances, in a religious etiquette. 
Confucius, even with his pantheism, is nearer the truth. He 
at least requires spirit ; the Jew and Greek, only form. 

It is this theory which makes religion a mere routine, 
a system of etiquette ; which makes worship a mere round 
of acts and ceremonies. It is to this externalization of 
religion, that is mainly attributable the relapse of the 
Christian consciousness, under the dominion of the idea of 



60 SACERDOTALISM. 

the priesthood. Add to this the loss of that consciousness 
of communion with God which is dependent upon the ap- 
propriation of the truths of Redemption ; these two things 
taken together constitute the reason of that relapse of the 
Christian Church to the Old Testament position, which the 
Church soon underwent. With this relapse came in the 
whole sacerdotal system, both in its Jewish and heathen sig- 
nificance. The Church, instead of a spiritual society, became 
a temporal one. Presbyters became priests, and the rites 
of the Church became mere magical ceremonies. Of course, 
this change was not effected immediately, the process was 
that of evolution ; the evolution having its origin in an 
idea, which although not formally enunciated, yet as an 
influence, a sort of spiritual atmosphere, pervaded the mind 
of the age. 

No idea receives its definition at its origin. First as a 
subtle influence it pervades the mind of the age, influencing 
it, and moulding it, in its direction ; not until it has tri- 
umphed, having brought existing institutions under its bond- 
age, and thus eliminated itself, can it be brought before the 
consciousness as a definite idea. Thus it was with the sacer- 
dotal system. It existed in its realization under Judaism, 
and to a certain extent under Paganism. Christianity for 
a time dissipated it ; but soon it returns, pervading as a 
subtle influence the Christian consciousness, until again 
having realized itself it became enunciated and boldly pro- 
posed as the theory of the Christian Church, in the pseudo- 
Isodorean Decretals. 

The first thing which we can observe as a step in the grad- 
ual realization of this idea, is the line of demarcation which 
was soon drawn between the clergy and the laity. Before 
this there was no such distinction. The clergy was not a 
distinct spiritual caste ; they were only the ministers of the 
Christian society ; its officers ; its functionaries, or organs. 



SACERDOTALISM. 61 

The prime element in the Christian Church was the people; 
the ministers of the Church were really what that name im- 
plies. None but the Apostles were properly the ambassa- 
dors of Christ ; none who succeeded them in the office of 
preaching, stood in such a relationship to God and Christ. 
The preacher of the Christian community had the Scripture 
as his text-book ; it was his duty to apprehend and to ap- 
propriate the truths there revealed. He had no direct inspi- 
ration enabling him, like an Apostle, to reveal new truths ; 
he must confine himself to Revelation ; and the people, the 
Church at large, was to determine whether or not he enun- 
ciated the truth. The preacher was therefore responsible to 
the Church; was selected and appointed as its organ to 
any particular office. The idea that there were two such 
distinct orders in the Church as clergy and laity did not 
originally exist. It was the first step made by the sacer- 
dotal idea in the progress of its realization. 

With this doctrine of two classes within the Church fol- 
lowed that of there being two modes of life — the spiritual 
and the secular. And then the necessity of the clergy with- 
drawing themselves from all contact with the world, and 
devoting themselves exclusively to a so-called spiritual life. 
Hence the doctrine of celibacy for the clergy ; hence ascet- 
icism, monachism, and that whole system of life which aimed 
at a certain separation from the world. And on the other 
hand, the laity being the secular body, could only lead a 
secular or worldly life. They were not the spirituals ; and 
consistently with this external way of looking at things, 
the life of the laity must necessarily be worldly ; and their 
religion soon came to consist in mere forms and observances. 
The spiritual domain was made over entirely to the clergy. 
This separation of orders, and consequently of modes of life, 
gave rise subsequently to great misunderstanding and error 
in the Church, and is at the bottom of what we find after- 
6 



6 2 SACERDOTALISM. 

wards in the monastic orders as to various grades in tlie 
religious life, and ending in what was known as counsels of 
perfection. 

Upon this separation of clergy and laity, soon followed 
that of presbyter and bishop. Down to the time of Ter- 
tullian, who marks a transition period in the history of the 
Church, this distinction does not seem to have been clearly 
observed. " Irenseus, who preceded Tertullian, uses the 
names bishop and presbyter as wholly synonymous. Ter- 
tullian also calls the presiding officers of the Christian com- 
munity by the common name of ' Seniores,'' including under 
this title both bishops and presbyters." * With this sepa- 
ration began that struggle for power between presbyters 
and bishops, which for a long time proved so disastrous to 
the peace and welfare of the Church. 

And now the sacerdotal idea made another step towards 
its realization. The theory of the Jewish Hierarchical 
system which had hitherto hung suspended over the Church, 
now descended upon it, and thenceforth the Christian min- 
istry assumes the power and adopts the name and functions 
of the officers under the Jewish Hierarchical system ; thus 
the presbyters now begin to be regarded as priests, and 
the spiritual orders as Levites. Already we find Tertul- 
lian styling the bishops summits sacerdos. Thus the whole 
Jewish Hierarchical system passes over and becomes en- 
grafted upon the Christian Church. Thenceforth the 
Church is to be regarded in the light of the Old Testament 
Theocracy. 

The grand central idea under the Old Testament system, 
is that of the priesthood. In this office it was represented 
that man needed a mediator, who should mediate between 
God and himself. This was the teaching and meaning of 
the Old Testament sacerdotal system. It pointed to that 

*^ Neander's Plist. of the Church, Vol. I., page 192. 



SACERDOTALISM. 63 

high spiritual priesthood to be exercised by Jesus Christ, 
the end of all those Old Testament types. Those who bene- 
fited by this mediation understood all this ; but those who 
failed to use Christ and His mediation, who failed to ap- 
propriate the truths of Redemption, misunderstood it. 
They still remained at the Old Testament standpoint, and 
like the subjects of that dispensation, still felt the need of a 
mediating priesthood. Hence they readily yielded them- 
selves to the Jewish system, and thus the sacerdotal idea 
became firmly lodged in the Christian consciousness. 

The priest, as the mediator between God and man, be- 
tween Christ and His Church, necessarily must be regarded 
as the channel through which God dispenses His grace. 
He is the medium through which God WTOught in His 
Church. The rites of His Church were the mediums 
through which in turn, he, the priest, wrought upon the 
people. Hence baptism and the Lord's supper became, in 
a peculiar sacerdotal sense, the means of Grace. Through 
baptism the priest, or God, through the agency of the 
priest, infused the Holy Spirit within the baptized soul, 
and brought it within the pale of salvation. In the Lord's 
supper, the priest, by means of an incantation uttered over 
the bread and wine, transformed it into the very body and 
blood of Christ, — thus bringing Christ down from heaven 
again, and repeating the incarnation, or rather impanation, 
and the sacrifice of the Redeemer. In fine, the rites of the 
Christian Church became really magical rites ; and no one 
could be saved without permission of the priests in charge 
of this matter. And thus the Church, having resolved itself 
into a mixture of Judaism and paganism, yielded itself ab- 
solutely to the bondage of the sacerdotal idea. 

The Christian Church, in order to its existence as such, 
must have for its substance Christian men, men who have 
appropriated the truths of Redemption ; who have, by means 



6 4 S ACEKDOTALISM. 

of the mediation of Jesus Christ through faith in His blood, 
been consciously reconciled to God and restored to com- 
munion with Him. Such -men have no longer any use for 
a human mediator or priest ; they themselves are the only 
human priests ; their lives, in view of the mercies of God, 
are offered as a thank-offering to Him, holy and acceptable 
in His sight. In such a Christian consciousness there is 
no need of priests, and no such system could ever take root. 
But when Christian men are not reconciled to God through 
the mediation of Jesus Christ, then very certainly the sacer- 
dotal principle will make itself felt ; in such a soil it will find 
lodgment ; there it will grow and bring forth its fruit. This 
is just what happened in the Christian Church. It begun 
in the Spirit; it lost the Spirit, but retained the form. 
There was a form, an organization ; but now it did not 
meet the wants of its members. Therefore it relapsed. It 
retained the semblance of itself, but appropriated the sys- 
tem adapted to its wants. Its preachers ceased to be such, 
and became priests ; its sacraments ceased to be such, and 
became mere magical rites. The Christian Church had be- 
come a Jewish-pagan institution. 

The Christian Church, in its beginnings, had to meet, and, 
if it was to be a success, to overcome an hitherto dominant 
idea. Among the Jews, it came in conflict with the Old 
Testament sacerdotal system, and among the pagans the 
same system in its connection with the State. The idea of 
a priesthood was an universal one. It was therefore but 
natural and to be expected, that such a familiar mode of 
thought would in the end have a powerful effect in mould- 
ing the Christian consciousness of the succeeding ages. As 
soon as the first sudden, even miraculous effect of Chris- 
tianity began to die away ; as soon as the Church recruited 
from those who were imperfectly converted, who had not 
appropriated Redemption in its power, but only as a 



SACERDOTALISM. 65 

religious system ; as soon as the Church became constituted 
to a great extent of such material, so soon a reaction began 
to be experienced. The form was ahead of the Spirit ; was 
adapted to a Spiritual, truly Christian society ; when, in 
fact, that society was in the main worldly, unchristian, and 
often pagan at heart. Thus the Church relapsed to a posi- 
tion adapted to such a state of things. What occurs in the 
religious experience of the individual, occurred in the his- 
tory of the Church. At first the work of Grace produces 
freedom and joy in the new believer ; but soon this .fa^^ 
away, and he enters upon the uphill work of being grounded 
in the faith. At this point there is ever great danger of a 
relapse. The new convert is always in danger of falling 
into some error, of adopting a formal, or a legal, or some 
other system of religion according to the former bent of 
his mind. Just so in the history of the Church : at first 
all was peace and joy in believing. " The multitude of 
those that believed were of one heart and one soul, continu- 
ing daily with one accord in the temple ; did eat their meat 
with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God and 
having favor with all the people." But soon all this van- 
ished. The ideal Church presented itself but a moment 
and then vanished away, not to appear again ; certainly not 
until hereafter. Soon confusions and divisions and doubt- 
ings and heresies and schisms began to harass and to per- 
plex the new-born community. And then, from without, 
persecution added its pressure. The Christian community 
began now to feel the difficulties of its situation, having to 
contend against all the forces of the hitherto dominant 
powers of darkness. The most efiective way by means of 
which this power of evil operates upon human nature is 
through the medium of ideas. Man is necessarily, in the 
end, the slave of his ideas ; he cannot escape their power. 
The Spirit of evil, in his organized dominion over this 
6* E 



66 SACERDOTALISM. 

world, governs men chiefly by means of ideas. He impreg- 
nates, as it were, the moral and intellectual atmosphere 
with these ideal germs ; man breathes them, becomes in- 
oculated, and in turn propagates them, until they take 
hold upon the age, and are realized as facts in history. 
Thus it was with this sacerdotal idea. In its day it had its 
uses and therefore was good. But now that Christ, the true 
spiritual High Priest, had come and opened heaven to all 
believers, this idea was out of date. But the human 
mind is conservative, and tenaciously clings to what it pos- 
sesses. Moreover, it must cling to this idea until it appro- 
priate the work of the true Mediator ; for until then man 
will make for himself a mediator. Thus this idea must 
ever find a soil in which it can lodge itself successfully ; 
therefore, in this instance, the work of the powers of evil 
was not a diflicult one. It was easy enough under such 
circumstances to draw the Church again back under the 
dominion of the sacerdotal system. 

The JcAvish Church ought to have been gladly awaiting 
the coming of the true spiritual JMessiah, and the setting 
up of His spiritual kingdom ; but it was not. Dragged 
down by the powers of darkness, they had as a Church 
become hopelessly involved in worldliness and pride. They 
looked for and wanted only a temporal kingdom, and so 
failed to recognize and bow themselves to the King of 
Glory. So the Christian Church ought to have remained 
satisfied in its enjoyment of the spiritual kingdom of Christ, 
and with Him as its only Priest and Mediator. But it was 
not ; failing through unbelief to enter into that kingdom, it 
misunderstood it, and led captive by the powers of darkness, 
submitted itself to the yoke of the previously dominant 
sacerdotal idea and system. 

It is a melancholy fact, obvious to any one who will ob- 
serve its history, that the Christian Church cannot for any 



SACERDOTALISM. 67 

long period occupy its true position, as the manifestation of 
the kingdom of Christ in the world. It never long sustains 
its character as a spiritual institution, but soon deteriorates, 
becoming a merely temporal, worldly organization. It is 
true, there are times of reaction, when the Church energeti- 
cally throws off this element ; but it is only a spasmodic 
action, soon there is a relapse. Spiritual numbness creeps 
over it again, and it sinks back into its former deadness 
and worldliness. The Christian spirit has not yet, as it 
seems, been able to overcome the deadly gravitation exer- 
cised by the powers of darkness. Perhaps this will all be 
changed some of these days, and it cannot be denied but 
that prophecy seems to warrant such an expectation. But 
be that as it may, up to this time the Christian Church has 
found it impossible for any length of time to occupy its 
rightful position in this world. To counteract the inertia 
of worldliness in human nature seems to present a formida- 
ble obstacle to the powers of the world to come. The sacer- 
dotal idea in its internal and external relations, in its final 
evolution as a religious and as an ecclesiastical system, has 
yet to be overcome. 

The Hierarchical system as an idea exists in full force 
within the pale of Protestantism ; we say, as an idea, for 
up to the present time it has not been able fully to realize 
itself. As an idea it seems, however, to be propagating 
itself, and has already taken possession of a large portion 
of the mind of Protestantism, and is now strenuously exert- 
ing itself in order to its realization. Protestantism began 
with dethroning the Hierarchy. Its fundamental proposi- 
tion is that through the m^ediation of Jesus Christ all be- 
lievers become priests unto God. There is but one Mediator 
between God and man — the man Christ Jesus. This, we 
say, is the fundamental dictum of the Reformation. With 
the establishment of this doctrine the whole Hierarchy, with 



68 SACERDOTALISM. 

its swarm of propitiating officers, collapsed. Protestantism 
had no place for priests under its system; and with its 
establishment, the very name of priest, for a time, was 
forced to hide itself in obscurity. The priest became a 
Presbyter, a preacher of the gospel, a minister of the 
Church. But this state of things did not long exist ; with 
the failure to appropriate vitally the truths of Eedemption 
follows the loss, in the believer, of the consciousness of Re- 
demption, and of his priestly relation, through Jesus Christ, 
to God. At once, then, the old idea begins to rear its head 
again, and gradually, almost imperceptibly, it takes root in 
the consciousness of the Church, and begins to manifest its 
presence. With it, and in its train, returns the whole system 
of priestly mediation, and soon the name and the office of 
priest becomes firmly rooted once more in the consciousness 
of the age. " When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, 
he walketh through dry places seeking rest, and findeth 
none. Then, saith he, I will return into my house, from 
whence I came out ; and when he is come he findeth it 
empty, swept and garnished. Then goeth he and taketh 
with himself seven other spirits more wicked than himself, 
they enter in and dwell there, and the last state of that man 
is worse than the first." " Even so," concludes the Master, 
'* shall it be to this wicked generation." A law this is in 
the individual aiid in the age ; an evil of any kind, whether 
of practice or of doctrine, an error, routed, will inevitably 
return and seek again to lodge itself in the consciousness of 
the age. And if it succeeds the danger is even greater than 
it was originally. 

The sacerdotal system, routed from its stronghold by the 
power of truth in the sixteenth century, having since wan- 
dered* about seeking rest and finding none, returning to its 
once home, the mind of man, finds it, through the power of 
Gospel truth, swept and garnished. Gathering resolution, 



SACERDOTALISM. G9 

it enters in, and, melancholy to relate, has again taken 
possession, and is now struggling vigorously to pervade en- 
tirely the consciousness of the age. So far, it has been but 
partially successful. The sacerdotal system is by no means 
as yet a fact within the Protestant Church. It is an idea, 
a doctrine, struggling for its absolute realization. 

This system, as at present existing, oiFers itself in its 
most advanced form for acceptance, as the doctrine of 
Apostolic succession. This is the form and the formula 
which the sacerdotal system, in at least one section of 
the Protestant Church, has seen fit for the present to 
adopt. An evolution of the meaning of this formula would 
give us all the elements contained in the Roman sacerdotal 
system. Under this system it is maintained that all the 
powers, spiritual and ecclesiastical, of the kingdom of Christ 
have by Him, through his Apostles, been committed into 
the hands of a certain class of officers appointed by the 
Apostles to be their successors in the Apostolic office ; that 
such Apostolic successors have in their turn handed down 
their trust and powers, by means of manual contact, to their 
successors ; and that thus there is an unbroken chain in 
the succession to the Apostolic office down to the present 
time ; that prelates or bishops, therefore, sit in the Apos- 
tolic chair and administer Apostolic powers. It is held 
that to these prelates is committed originally the power to 
bind and to loose ; to grant absolution, or to bind sin upon 
the conscience. All powers, &c., in the Church, both 
spiritual and ecclesiastical, it is held, reside originally in 
them, as the immediate successors of the Apostles. The 
bishops, under this system, are to be regarded just as the 
Apostles were, as the foundation and custodians of the 
Church. They are to be considered as the living representa- 
tives of the Apostles. Moreover, it is held, that just as the 
Apostles ordained and commissioned elders to go and preach 



70 SACERDOTALISM. 

the Gospel and to administer the rites of the Church, so the 
bishops, their successors, are to continue to do. The pres- 
byters are but their agents, through whom they act upon 
the body of the Church. And since all power is confined 
originally within their hands, none, it is held, can lawfully 
or effectually exercise spiritual or ecclesiastical functions 
unless they have been commissioned by this Episcopacy. 
No ordination is valid, nothing is conferred in the Church 
but through the Episcopal manual contact. The Holy 
Ghost is confined within the limits of the Episcopal bench, 
so far as He is the Spirit of the Church. The Episcopacy 
is, then, a hierarchy, an ecclesiastical aristocracy, and. an 
oligarchy. Romanism gives us the sacerdotal system under 
the conditions of a monarchy, and of absolutism. The 
Episcopacy, as understood by the dogma of Apostolic suc- 
cession, contains the same system under the form of an 
ecclesiastical aristocracy, or an oligarchy. The Pope is the 
successor of St. Peter, prince of the Apostles, under the one 
system ; under the other, the bishops are the successors of 
all the Apostles, the lords of the Church. Thus, under the 
sanction of this dogma of an Apostolic succession, we have 
the hierarchical system of Rome thoroughly resuscitated ; 
only instead of a monarchical we have an oligarchical ec- 
clesiastical despotism established. In the one case, the Pope 
is the vicar of Christ ; in the other, the Episcopal order is 
the vicar of the Apostles. Within the circle of this order, 
all the spiritual powers pertaining to the kingdom of 
Christ are held primarily to reside ; therefore, as a corol- 
lary, outside of the Episcopacy there is no Church, just as 
under the Papacy, outside of it, there is none. If this be 
the true view of the Church system, evidently the w^hole 
body of believers is absolutely dependent upon the Episco- 
pal order for all spiritual life and power. If the Episco- 
pacy be the depository of all the powers of Christ's king- 



SACEKDOTALISM. 71 

dom, then it is as broad as Christianity, and consequently 
outside of it there is no Christianity. The people, and the 
ministers of the people, the lower orders of the clergy, are 
the absolute slaves of the Episcopacy. It has become the 
head and corner-stone of the Church, and not Jesus Christ. 
The difference between the Papacy and Episcopacy, as thus 
understood, is only in name. The only difference is, in the 
one, the Pope is the Rock upon which Christ is held to 
build His Church ; in the other, it is the Episcopal order 
that is thus regarded. At the bottom of the whole system 
lies the doctrine of the necessity of a mediator between God 
and man, other than Jesus Christ. Here arises the order 
of the priesthood with its whole paraphernalia of a medi- 
atory sacramentarianism. This is the first stage in the 
evolution of the sacerdotal hierarchy. Next follows the 
Episcopal system, under which the power of mediation is 
gradually restricted, being drawn within the limits of the 
Episcopal order, which becomes thenceforth regarded as the 
fountain and source of all such power. This usurpation 
being once established, the Church falls completely under 
the dominion of the Episcopacy, and becomes co-extensive 
only with it. And here, no doubt, the doctrine of Apostolic 
succession had its origin. It was introduced in order to 
sanction an usurpation which was already a fact in the ec- 
clesiastical constitution. The third stage in the process 
began in the gradual evolution of the Papal constitution, 
and became a fact in the final absolutism of the Papacy. 
The powers which the Episcopacy had usurped, and then 
sanctioned by means of an imported doctrine, were grad- 
ually restricted and drawn within the circle of its dominion 
by the Papacy, which, in turn, became the fountain, source, 
and depository of all spiritual power. And this fact, in its 
turn, becomes fastened upon the Church by means of a 
doctrine. Upon Peter and his successors, as the verse in 



72 SACERDOTALISM. 

Scripture is interpreted, Christ has founded His Church, 
and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. Thus 
the people first become tributary to the priesthood, then to 
the Episcopacy, and finally to the Papacy. And each posi- 
tion in this advance is sanctioned and fastened upon the 
Church as a Divine institution, under the alleged sanction 
of Holy Scripture. Thus it becomes a doctrine. 

The Reformation was a revolt against the sacerdotal sys- 
tem ; but it has not been entirely successful. In some cases 
it threw the Church back upon its primitive condition, and 
so far as concerns form, in a safer condition ; in others, 
only upon its antecedent Episcopal constitution. AVith the 
revival of the sacerdotal doctrine, which must ever appear 
with the decline of what is truly Christian life, with the 
loss of the consciousness of Redemption and of the truth 
of the universal priesthood of believers, — with the revival of 
this doctrine follows in the Episcopal constitution, that also 
of the Apostolic succession ; for without such a dogma, the 
Episcopal order could not maintain that ascendency which 
it is too apt to covet, and to arrogate to itself. So far the 
Reformed Church has maintained its independence against 
the Papacy ; but if this dogma of Apostolic succession is to 
triumph, there is great danger that we shall become the 
mere slaves of an Episcopacy. Thus we shall have retained 
the whole sacerdotal system, and only have changed an 
ecclesiastical monarchy for an oligarchy. This will be the 
only probable result of the Reformation, so far as concerns 
one large section of Protestantism. 

The hierarchical or sacerdotal system, as we find it now 
in the Episcopal branch of the Reformed Church, is com- 
plete as an outward, visible religious system. The Chris- 
tian community, failing to a great extent to use the only 
one Mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus, 
as its great High Priest ; failing within the sphere of con- 



SACERDOTALISM. 73 

sciousness to appropriate to itself the atonement made by 
Him once for all for the sins of the world, and so to attain 
peace and reconciliation with God ; failing thus to use Jesus 
Christ, thus offered as the propitiation for its sins ; more- 
over, failing to use Him in His intercessory and kingly 
functions as the immediate administrator to the conscious- 
ness of all the blessings of His grace ; failing thus to use 
Christ the invisible High Priest for what he offers Himself 
to us, the Christian consciousness, if indeed it can be so 
called, feels the necessity for some other mediator between 
itself and its God, it is not at peace with God ; yet it longs 
for such a consciousness ; and to obtain this, it must have a 
priest and a sacrifice. It feels its weakness, moreover ; it 
wants grace ; the priest must meet this w^ant also. 

Such, then, being the wants of the Christian community, 
the Episcopacy or the Papacy undertakes to supply them. 
Each of these systems claim to be the channel, and the 
only one, through which the grace of God flows, and can be 
rightly and successfully administered. This position is 
based, in the Papacy, upon the express Word of God, as it 
is claimed, as when it is said, " Thou art Peter, and on this 
rock will I build my Church," &c., the text which is cited 
as a proof one for this position. In the Episcopacy, Scrip- 
ture, too, is cited in proof, though, it must be confessed, not 
so directly in point. Apostolic usage, however, is the proof 
most relied upon. Timothy and Titus are regarded in the 
light of successors of the Apostles, and an unbroken line 
either through them, or through other bishops, is claimed 
to extend to the present time. Here, then, in this line, it 
is asserted, are to be found all the powers of the Kingdom 
of Grace. Here are those who alone are able to appoint 
and commission the subordinate ministers in the Church. 
Here are the true Apostolic vicars authorized to bind and 
Xq loose, who have prin^arily in their hands the keys of 
. 7 ' 



74 SACERDOTALISM. 

death and Hades, who alone are able therefore to commis- 
sion others to do likewise. Thus, one, who has been or- 
dained by the Apostolic succession, is supposed to possess 
supernatural powers. In the first place he can bind and 
loose, that is, can attach sin or its punishment upon the 
individual ; or he can absolve, and thus release from pun- 
ishment. None but those who have passed from under the 
hands of the so-called Apostolic successor are considered as 
imbued with these powers. Moreover, thus legitimately 
ordained, the priest is held to have the power of regener- 
ating. Thus, in baptism, he is able to wash from sin and to 
infuse the Holy Spirit. A germ, it is said, is planted in this 
operation, which, in due time, will germinate and grow up 
into maturity. It is said baptism, coming from the hands of 
one ordained by the Apostolic succession, implants then the 
Holy Ghost in germ, and none but the priest thus authen- 
ticated can perform this magical operation. But the priest's 
power extends beyond this. He is able to repeat the in- 
carnation, or rather to perform the miracle of an impana- 
tion of the Son of God, and to reproduce His flesh and 
blood upon the altar. By a certain formula or incantation, 
the priest of the Apostolic succession can bring Christ 
down from heaven and reproduce the very body and blgod 
of Christ upon a communion-table. With this food he can 
feed the flock, who are thus enabled, by faith in this incan- 
tation, to partake of the very body and blood of Christ; 
and none but the priest thus commissioned, it is held, can 
perform this operation. Thus the sacerdotalism of Chris- 
tianity is, as a system, complete. Primarily, all its func- 
tions reside in the priesthood. They have, however, in the 
dogma of the Apostolic succession, been all monopolized by 
the bishops, who consider themselves as the depositaries of 
all such sacerdotal powers in the Church, having been ap- 
pointed to that position by Christ and his Apostles, and 



SACERDOTALISM. 75 

who dole them out to whom they will through the ordi- 
nance of ordination. Sacerdotalism, which properly has 
no place in the Christian Church, except in that all are 
believers and priests unto God, has fastened itself upon 
the Church, and the Episcopacy has monopolized all its 
powers to itself, grounding its usurpation upon Apostolic 
sanction ; thus a hierarchy has established itself, and is re- 
attempting to bring the Christian consciousness, and with 
it the Christian community, into bondage under it. Sacer- 
dotalism and the hierarchy are things distinct : the hie- 
rarchy uses sacerdotalism as its foundation. It uses man's 
bondage to the principle of mediation, in order to establish 
itself as a spiritual despotism. 

The sacerdotal system, as a fact, is not, however, confined 
within the limits of the Apostolic succession. It is widely 
prevalent, widely beyond the limits of the Episcopacy. The 
Papacy and Episcopacy are, after all, but forms, under 
which the sacerdotal principle manifests itself. The sacer- 
dotal principle is entirely distinct from either of them, and, 
although it may serve as an useful basis upon which to 
build either of these systems, still it may exist under other 
constitutional forms. 

The sacerdotal principle is a psychical one. It is a de- 
mand of human nature as religious, and as conscious of its 
sinfulness. It springs out of man's sense of his inability to 
stand just before God, and of his need, therefore, of a Me- 
diator and of a sacrifice. And so long as men fail to come 
into immediate contact, and into friendly communion with 
God, through faith in Jesus Christ, they will feel the need 
of a priesthood. 

Few seem to be able to understand that when they want 
anything they must go at once directly to God, through the 
invisible Mediator Jesus Christ. Few can understand, that 
when they want peace and a consciousness of reconciliation 



76 SACERDOTALISM. 

with God, they have nothing to do ; but to feed on Christ, 
presented in the Word, already offered for the sins of the 
world, by faith with thanksgiving. Few, we say, under- 
stand how to use Christ as the Mediator, and learn to require 
nothing to intervene between God and themselves. We com- 
municate with God, through prayer. He communicates with 
us through His Word and by means of His Spirit ; this is 
the state of things which believing in Christ necessitates. 

This being the state of the case, now, under Protestan- 
tism, as is evident to any observer, the sacerdotal system is 
not dead, by no means so, nor is it confined to Episcopacy. 
There are priests, though not in name in other Protestant 
denominations, besides the Episcopacy of England and 
America. Religion as it is now understood is sacerdotal 
very generally, instead of appropriating Redemption and 
consciously becoming priests and kings unto God; in- 
stead of, as sinners conscious of peace with God, through 
faith in Christ, offering themselves, souls and bodies, a 
living sacrifice, a thank-offering to God for the grace of 
Redemption, Christians under the thraldom of sacerdotal- 
ism are still using the Church and its offices as means 
whereby they are to attain to such a condition, that is to 
say, they are still fully under the power of the sacerdotal 
system. Men talk about others being priest-ridden, and 
fondly imagine that they themselves are absolutely free 
from such a bondage ; but they only deceive themselves. 
Human nature cannot do without the priesthood. It is 
true, men have sometimes, galled by the tyranny imposed 
upon them by an arrogant Hierarchy, fiercely revolted 
against it, and have temporarily hurled it from the throne 
of its ascendancy. But such efforts are but spasmodic and 
are short-lived. France revolted against the papal Hie- 
rarchy and it went down in blood and ashes ; and not long 
since, the same thing was repeated, and the same Hierarchy 



SACERDOTALISM. 77 

felt the mad fury of the Commune, and again went down in 
blood and ashes. This is but the revolt of the human being 
against the tyranny of the Hierarchy, which after all is but 
a result. The Hierarchy is an ecclesiastical and spiritual 
despotism constructed upon the conscience of humanity, 
and having for its basis, in human nature, the principle of 
sacerdotalism. Sacerdotalism is, as we have said, a psychi- 
cal necessity ; man takes advantage of this, and in the priest- 
hood, under the Papal or any other constitution, it matters 
not, constructs a spiritual despotism, the most galling and 
grinding of all conceivable forms of tyranny. Under the 
Papal constitution this despotism reached its perfection ; 
and in the Episcopacy, under cover of the dogma of the 
Apostolic succession, it is gravitating towards the same 
result. And even apart from either of these constitutions, 
sacerdotalism may succeed in establishing a despotism, as it 
has done in Geneva, under the great Calvin ; as it has done 
in Scotland under the leadership of John Knox ; and as it 
is still tending to do within the Presbyterian and Methodist 
denominations. Mankind sometimes feeling its bondage 
revolts against this ; but since human nature cannot remain 
for any length of time Atheistic, inevitably, soon, again, he 
will return under the yoke. Mankind revolts against the 
Hierarchy ; but it is the sacerdotalism that holds him 
bound, and it is this felt necessity of his nature that makes 
men at such times hate that order of men which, taking 
advantage of this human necessity and weakness, use it 
selfishly for their advancement. The Koman Church un- 
derstands the principle of sacerdotalism, and has ever used 
it skilfully. The only possible way of escaping perma- 
nently from the despotism of a sacerdotal Hierarchy is by 
satisfying the psychical necessities of sacerdotalism. We need 
never expect to see humanity free from the shackles of such 
a system, until it becomes thoroughly Christianized; until all 



78 SACERDOTALISM. 

men learn to recognize the one Mediator, and from the bottom 
of their consciousness to acknowledge that there is but one 
Mediator between God and man, the nian Christ Jesus, and 
that He is the propitiation for the sins of the world. And 
if this is never to be, then the despotism of a sacerdotal 
Hierarchy is to continue to the very end. 

No country or people can escape the domination of such 
a sacerdotal hierarchy — it exists everywhere. What system 
more thorough than that of the East, over which the Grand 
Lama presides ? and the Pope, who is he but the Grand 
Lama of the West ? The Grand Lama of Thibet is infalli- 
ble — a god — and the Pope now can share his honors with 
him. There is now an Eastern and a Western sacerdotal 
god. Then there is the Mikado of Japan, another Pope, 
another blossom of this same sacerdotal principle. The 
principle contained in sacerdotalism is co-extensive with 
the human race ; the form which the hierarchy, administer- 
ing it, takes, differs ; but since the tendency of all human 
establishments, and especially of spiritual ones, is towards 
unity, and therefore despotism, in th"ese Lamas and Mika- 
dos and Popes and Bishops (as understood under the dogma 
of Apostolic succession), we have before us a final result, 
the despotism of various ecclesiastical systems, all of which 
live and move and have their being in the principle of 
sacerdotalism. 



CHAPTER III. 

CHRISTIANITY AND ^ESTHETICS ; OR, THE CHRISTIAN 

CULTUS. 

THOUGHT vents itself in " the word," first, inwardly 
in the mind, as an idea, then outwardly, as the word 
spoken or w^ritten. Feeling vents itself primarily in the 
inarticulate cry, and thus in many cases exhausts and satis- 
fies itself But feelings are, in kind, perhaps infinite ; in 
depth, they are profound; in their demands in order to their 
satisfaction, never ending. Feelings are of the nature of 
the infinite ; they are insatiable, always demanding more. 
Feelings agitate the soul, and move it to its lowest depths. 
Poetry, music, art in all its branches, is but the expression, 
the language, the vent of feeling. The religious feeling is 
the most profound, the most intense, that moves within our 
nature. Its yearning is sometimes agony to endure. The 
awful piles of Egypt ; the magnificent temples of Greece, 
and the gloomy, solemn grandeur of the Mediaeval cathe- 
dral, are but the language and expression of this religious 
feeling. And even all this is but inadequate — the religious 
feeling still demands more. 

Poetry, what is it but feeling, palpitating, breathing 
itself out through the medium of the word ? And music, 
what is it but the sensitive soul speaking to us through the 
langviage of sound, which naturally is its own; through 
which naturally it breathes and speaks itself out ? 

Painting, sculpture, architecture, all are but the forms, 

79 



80 CHRISTIANITY AND ESTHETICS; OR, 

the language, which the sensitive spirit uses, through which 
to express its inspiration, and breathe itself out. But through 
none of them can the inspired spirit ever perfectly express 
itself. Infinitely beyond its power of expression, is the 
spirit's power of feeling. Something must ever remain in- 
articulate — a yearning, profound, sad, because apparently 
forever it must remain unexpressed, unsaid. Religion 
solemnizes and, at the same time, intensifies the feelings. 
The consciousness of a God and of the sin and guilt which 
hang heavily upon us, w^hile it makes man a religious being, 
at least, fearing God, makes him at the same time more 
grave and sober ; it solemnizes human nature, and makes 
it conscious, more or less, of the awfulness of its situation. 
Eternity, immortality, a judgment impending, a God the 
Judge of quick and dead, these, the main facts of religion, 
once received within the consciousness, will have a powerful 
effect. Man thus is sobered ; his feelings taking a religious 
tinge become deepened and intensified. 

The religious spirit once aroused seeks to express and 
give vent to its feelings. Poetry, music, and the fine arts, 
the language of the feelings, are the mediums through 
which alone this can be efifected ; each of them will then, 
in turn, become the form, in w^hich the religious spirit will 
embody itself, and thus see to express its yearnings. Poetry, 
music, and the fine arts are, then, legitimately the language 
of the religious spirit, and, just as in the first place, it uses 
the word written or spoken to give vent to its thoughts, so, 
too, it uses these mediums through which to breathe out 
itself, and give expression to its feelings. 

The doctrines of a religion give us the utterances of the 
religious spirit with relation to thought. The cultus of a re- 
ligion, gives us the utterances of the same spirit with rela- 
tion to feeling. The doctrines are expressed in " the word." 
The cultus is expressed in poetry, music, painting, sculpture, 



THE CHRISTIAN CULTUS. 81 

and the arts. The cultus of a religion is, then, religious 
feeling expressed in the language of poetry, music, and of 
the other fine arts. 

The fine arts, under which head we include poetry and 
music, being the language and expression of all the feelings, 
are broader in their comprehension than is the cultus of 
religion. They are the language of all feeling, the human 
cultus. A cultus as applied to religion is but the language 
of religious feeling. We may therefore have poetry, or 
music, or architecture, without any religious feeling. We 
may have the language of joy or of sorrow and sadness and 
of gloom ; we may have all these feelings expressing them- 
selves in poetry or music without any reference to religious 
feeling. The fine arts are, then, the genus, the universal 
language of feeling. There is a general cultus more or less 
extensive, and a particular cultus, more confined. The 
cultus of a religion is the species, the language of one, the 
religious feeling. The fine arts, then, used as a vehicle 
through which to express religious feeling, become the 
cultus of a religion. 

It is as natural to man to feel as it is to think ; there is a 
form for feeling, just as there is for thought. All can com- 
prehend the word, the form of thought, and as a general 
rule, mankind understands, or rather responsively feels, 
poetry, music, and the other fine arts, the form of feeling. 
But thought embodied in the word, comprehensible to one 
mind, may not be so to another ; just so in the fine arts, a 
style of poetry or music which appeals to and is appreciated 
by some, excites no response in the heart of others. There 
are gradations in the aesthetic sensibilities, just as there are 
in the sphere of mind. The thought of one mind may be 
incomprehensible to another. The music or poetry of one 
heart may be unfelt and unappreciated by another ; it may 
find no responsive echo, awaken no sympathetic feelings in 

F 



82 CHRISTIANITY AND ESTHETICS; OR, 

the breast of another. The reason is, because the aesthetic 
sensitiveness of the two constitutions is different ; in the one 
case the sesthetic sensitiveness is dull, in the other it is acute ; 
the refinement of the one constitution is superior to that of 
another, perhaps by reason of education, or perhaps natu- 
rally so. Minds vary ; there are scarcely two of the same 
calibre ; so with the aesthetic constitution, there are scarcely 
any two whose aesthetic sensibilities can be said to be ex- 
actly in unison, though often they are in harmony, but 
scarcely ever in unison. 

To create in the sphei#"of thought, and in that of feeling, 
requires more power than to understand or to respond to. 
Thus, the mind that enunciates thought is ever more power- 
ful than the one that receives, understands, and appropri- 
ates the " word " or embodied thought ; thus, many minds 
can understand and appreciate what they never could them- 
selves have enunciated. The producer is a very different 
person from the consumer ; the former is the more powerful 
of the two, the leader in the realm of mind. So in the 
domain of the fine arts, the creative master, in any depart- 
ment, is the leader. His aesthetic sensibilities are more 
acute, more intense and refined than of one who can 
admire, feel, and appreciate his productions. The poet 
is greater than the lover of his poetry ; the musical crea- 
tor greater than they who are enraptured with the tones 
of his creation ; superior to one who can interpret his crea- 
tion, can even imbibe his spirit, and reduce his feelings into 
execution ; that is, to the performer. He is superior to the 
performer, just as the painter or sculptor or architect is 
above the copyist who produces his work. A copyist, to be 
a true one, must not merely imitate, he must imbibe the 
spirit of his master, otherwise he cannot reproduce the mas- 
ter's creation ; it will be without life, a dead image, a mere 
likeness of the original. 



THE CHRISTIAN CULTUS. 83 

The artist is a man of profound sensibilities ; his soul is a 
delicate one, intensely sensitive. In his production he em- 
bodies this spirit, and accordingly as constitutionally he is 
poet, musician, or other kind of artist, his sensibilities will 
find relief in that direction and thus express themselves. 
When the poet feels, he expresses himself in the sesthetical 
language of poetry ; the musician in music ; the painter, or 
sculptor, or architect, in the language of their respective 
arts. Souls which are sesthetically sensitive are capable of 
appreciating such creations. Few are open to the power of 
this art -language in all its branches; some appreciate 
one art, others another ; so that all can find something to 
which their souls especially respond. Mankind universally 
appreciates art, in some, if not in all of its departments, 
because mankind universally has feelings. Man universally 
understands the word, thought embodied ; so also he responds 
to the fine arts the embodiment of feeling. 

One great work of art addresses itself everywhere to the 
sesthetic sensibilities of mankind. The grand medium 
through which the All-great Architect and Artist addresses 
himself to the sensibilities of mankind, is nature. Nature 
is, from one point of view, but the creation of an artist. 
Through it, the God of nature appeals to the sensibilities 
of man. Nature speaks to man, especially, through the 
eye and the ear. In itself it contains in it, excluding 
poetry, which is essentially the " word," all the other ele- 
ments of art. Music in its rudiments, then, is in the sigh 
of the breezes, the rush of the hurricane, in the murmur of 
the streamlet, and in the roar of the ocean. Nature has its 
music, its harmonies, and they are strangely exhilarating 
sometimes. Painting, sculpture, architecture, all that is 
contained in these expressions, are to be found to perfection 
in nature. The aspects of nature give us all of them, and 
in their perfection. The music of nature appeals to the 



84 CHRISTIANITY AND JESTHETICS ; OR, 

human sensibilities, through the ear ; its beauties of form 
and color, appeal to man's sesthetical sensibilities through 
the eye. All the painting and sculpture and architecture 
which the human spirit employs, is but borrowed from this 
original source, this fountain of all inspiration — Nature. 
The true copyist imbibes the spirit of the original artist. 
The artist does but imbibe the spirit of the Creator as ex- 
pressed in the forms and colors of nature. Nature, then, 
from one point of view, is but a work of art ; through it as 
by means of a language God communes with the human 
spirit. Through "the word" He communes with mind; 
through nature. He moves to their very lowest depths the 
sensibilities of human nature. 

Thus in nature is to be found all that is grand and beauti- 
ful, and all that is soul-stirring in art. No human architect 
can ever hope to reproduce in effect the vaulted arch of 
the heavens. None can ever depict in spirit and in truth 
the awful solitude of the desert ; the grand sublimity of the 
rock-riven mountain ; the sweet repose of the summer's 
landscape. No artist can ever hope to equal the pictures, 
the creations offered by nature. These are the works of 
the Supreme One, the creator of the artist ; the mediums 
through which He expresses His feelings to those whom He 
has formed capable of responding to, and v/ho can appre- 
ciate these glorious works of art. This is the cultus of God 
himself — the sesthetical language in which God speaks to 
man ; and it is this instrumentality that he adopts and sanc- 
tifies thereafter as a religious cultus. 

The occasion is a solemn one : the law of God is to be 
reiterated ; man's conscience is to be addressed ; God is about 
to impress man with the tremendous majesty of His pres- 
ence ; man is to be taught to fear God, to the end that he 
shall obey Him ; man is to be made to feel the inviolability 
of the moral law ; is to be made to realize the awful majesty 



THE CHRISTIAN CULTUS. 85 

of the Being to whom he is responsible, and through the 
dread of His wrath and indignation is to be kept in the 
path of obedience. 

God will now, while He enlightens tlie mind and the 
conscience, appeal to man also through the inlet of his 
sensibilities. To do this, He at once brings to bear all the 
resources of a Divine cultus. Man, when he would appeal 
to the sensibilities, introduces poetry, music, all the instru- 
mentalities which God has placed at his disposal; and 
while the conscience is approached directly through the 
medium of " the word," the feelings are all brought into 
action through the instrumentality of these arts. God does 
likewise ; the law given to Moses enlightens the conscience, 
and, at the same time, the Divine cultus of Sinai appeals 
to the sensibilities; and human nature is thereby impressed 
and moved. In accomplishing this end. He brings into 
action the tremendous forces of Nature. Descending upon 
earth, he establishes His throne upon the dismal crag of 
Sinai. Shrouded in clouds and darkness, the mountain 
trembling in terror. He hurls his thunderbolts ; and the 
blasted crags of Horeb re-echoing, resound : Behold ! the 
terrific ritual of Jehovah ! — the natural cultus of an uni- 
versal religion: a stem and frowning mountain; clouds 
and darkness ; the earth quaking ; quivering lightnings, and 
crashing thunders ! — such is the ritual, the cultus, which 
Almighty God adopts when He would appeal to our sen- 
sibilities. Here, then, is the instance of a Divine cultus, 
the adoption of a Divine ritual. Here we have God using 
nature, with all its elements of art, as a language through 
which to address Himself to the sensibilities of man. 

Every religion has its cultus, that is to say, the religious 
spirit has, and will seek to express itself, in some or in all 
of the forms which are included under the category of the 
fine arts. The Egyptians have their massive temples and 

a 



86 CHRISTIANITY AND ESTHETICS; OR, 

tombs, their colossal sphinxes and statues, their g^idy 
frescoes. The Greeks had their sacred buildings, their 
beautiful temples, and their inimitable statuary and paint- 
ings ; almost invariably, these arts were employed for re- 
ligious purposes; in representations of the gods, and in 
adorning their temples. Statuary has its origin in the 
representation of the gods. The Romans, borrowing their 
architecture and statuary from the Greeks and Etruscans, 
they, too, have their temples adorned with painting and 
statuary. All the ancients, too, had their sacred poetry 
and music. The religious spirit inevitably takes possession 
of these channels through which to breathe out its inspira- 
tion, and thus to express itself 

The Christian Church, it, too, had its cultus. There is 
a Christian poetry, and music, and sculpture, and painting, 
and architecture. The cathedrals of Medisevalism, the 
mighty temple of St. Peter's at Rome, give us Christian art 
in its perfection. And the poetry of Dante and of Milton ; 
the music of a Beethoven, a Mozart, a Handel, and other 
great masters, give us the creations that the Christian inspi- 
ration has produced. The Roman Church has appreciated 
these products of the Christian spirit, has indorsed them, 
and often incorporated them in its ritual. 

The general spiritual association of the Christian com- 
munity finds its highest expression in acts and offices of 
public worship. The Christian life is an individual posses- 
sion. Public worship, the result of such a life in man as a 
social being, is the act of the whole body, the Church. 
Public worship, in order to its transaction, requires the con- 
dition of time and place, both of which are determined by 
the ritual of custom. The manner of worship, how it is to 
be conducted, evidently requires the interposition of a rule ; 
here, then, we come in contact with the ritual of the Chris- 
tian community. 



THE CHRISTIAN CULTUS. 87 

The ritual of the Church is properly the rule or law 
which regulates its public worship ; it directs the manner 
in which it is to be conducted. 

The Christian cultus, in one sense, that is, art inasmuch 
as it is affected by the spirit of Christianity, is as broad as 
Christianity itself. The Church ritual relates to certain 
sections of this cultus only, and directs hov7 they shall be 
regulated, in being introduced as an element in Christian 
worship. Poetry and music in general, as arts, have been 
more or less affected by the spirit of Christianity. Ours is 
not a Greek or Roman, or Egyptian or Chinese art ; but is 
necessarily Christian. The ideas and truths which Chris- 
tianity has planted in the consciousness of Christendom 
have necessarily produced some result. The mind of Chris- 
tendom being brought into contact with the grand realities 
of immortality, eternity, a future judgment, heaven and 
hell, has been more or less affected by them. The sensi- 
bilities have been, and must ever be, more or less stirred by 
being brought in contact with, and being forced to con- 
template such solemn and tremendous realities. Much of 
the poetry, even of a Byron, is attributable to Christianity ; 
without it, it was an impossibility. Once revealed, the 
facts of Christianity become a power in the human con- 
sciousness, and directly or indirectly w^ill exercise an influ- 
ence. There is no escaping the power of such realities; 
once made known, they must ever afterwards wield an irre- 
sistible influence over the mind of man. Byron and Shelley 
are a revolt from Christianity ; a mad effort to escape and 
to free themselves from the power of its truths. The poetry, 
I the whole art of Christendom is thus, directly or indirectly, 
but a Christian cultus. 

Now since man is a creature of sensibilities as well as of 
intellect, it follows that the cultus of a religion is as essen- 
tial to it as are its doctrines. And since it is only in rela- 



88 CHRISTIANITY AND iESTHETICS ; OR, 

tion to public worship that the cultus must become com- 
mon to all alike, it follows, that here the necessity for some 
general law to regulate this matter becomes felt. So long 
as the expression of religious feeling was merely individual, 
each could do as he pleased ; but when the act becomes one 
in common, in which all are to join, here uniformity be- 
comes necessary, and therefore some law by which it may 
be established. Separately, each individual may create or 
use such poetry, music, &c., as he pleases ; but if all are 
to join, as in the acts of public worship, uniformity must 
be established; there must be a ritual, a law regulating 
the worship of the Church. By such ritual, it is determined, 
what poetry shall be introduced to be used in common, and 
this poetry, being thus appropriated for the worship of the 
Church, becomes sacred ; a certain style of music, too, is 
adopted, which becomes Church or sacred music. Not that 
it has any particular element of holiness about it, — music 
cannot be classified originally as sacred and profane, — but 
there is a certain style of music and of poetry peculiarly 
adapted to the expression of religious feeling. The con- 
templation of the truths of Christianity, and of the reality 
of existence, gives rise to a certain class of feelings, which 
in their turn expre^ themselves in a certain style of music, 
and in a certain class of poetry. This music and poetry is 
appropriated by the Christian community, and by its ritual 
made the service of the Church. Thus it becomes sacred, 
being used for sacred purposes in the solemn worship of 
the Christian assembly. So, too, in architecture and its 
accessories, a certain style is adopted, it having succeeded 
best in expressing the feelings arising out of the truths pe- 
culiar to Christianity. In this case, however, architecture 
having in it the element of the useful as well as of the beau- 
tiful, becomes liable to certain limitations. The style of 
architecture adopted by any religious society depends, in 



THE CHRISTIAN CULTUS. 89 

the first place, upon what it adopts as its principle of 
worship. If, as under Protestantism very generally, the 
idea is that the understanding is alone to be addressed ; or 
if this is the leading, the main object, proposed in the act 
of worship, then of course there will be little or no pro- 
vision made in the ritual for an appeal to the sensibilities ; 
and here we would have an architecture adapted only to 
such a mode of address, and a ritual admitting of no appeal 
to the sensibilities. If the understanding be alone con- 
sidered, the church edifice should be a forum or hall, and 
no provision should be made for an appeal through other 
means to the sensibilities ; and thus just as one or the other 
side of this view becomes predominant, will the cultus of 
religion be contracted or expanded. If the sensibilities be 
entirely disregarded, there will be no cultus, the ritual will 
entirely exclude it; if the sensibilities be somewhat con- 
sidered, as is generally the case under Protestantism, the 
cultus, though limited, will, by the ritual, be allowed to 
exercise some influence. 

Under the ecclesiastical administration of Medisevalism, 
and still within the pale of Romanism, though not now to 
the same extent, public worship is nothing but a cultus, — 
the understanding is entirely disregarded, and the sensibili- 
ties are alone appealed to. Preaching, which retired more 
and more into the background with the advance of cere- 
monialism, finally became practically extinct. The cere- 
monial became more and more gorgeous ; finally the sensi- 
bilities alone were appealed to ; worship thus became a 
mere ceremony. Architecture and all its accessories were 
used to their utmost limits ; the w^orship of the congrega- 
tion became a solemn and a gorgeous pageant. But the 
understanding of the Christian society being disregarded, 
the facts of Christianity become obscured, and the cere- 
monial must needs lose its significance ; thus the whole 
8* 



90 CHRISTIANITY AND ESTHETICS; OR, 

ceremonial system became, in course of time, but an un- 
meaning pageant, and, in the end, failed to impress the 
religious sensibilities. There are two extremes : first, when 
the understanding is alone addressed ; and secondly, when the 
feelings alone are appealed to. The truth lies in the mean, 
in a just proportion of the two in unity. It is the province 
of the ritual to establish this proper proportion. 

Christianity, being a religion of light, cannot undertake 
to ignore the pulpit ; and in the Church's acts of worship 
the pulpit must ever hold an important position, the posi- 
tion, we may safely say, of prime importance. But Chris- 
tianity, though light, which soon becomes life in the human 
constitution, is also, therefore, a religion of life and feeling. 
The feelings, therefore, must not be ignored. Art itself, 
but the language of feeling, must be appropriated by Chris- 
tianity. Poetry and music, and architecture with its ac- 
cessories, are all, being human elements, to be appropriated 
and used by Christianity. Thus sanctified they ought to be 
found within the Christian Church, and under the Chris- 
tian ritual, which should legitimate and direct their appli- 
cation, ought to be used as. an instrumentality in Christian 
worship. The ritual would give us the rule for the use of 
the fine arts in the performance of public worship. 

Poetry and music, the prominent instrumentalities em- 
ployed in worship, though both appealing to the sensibili- 
ties, differ in their mode of address. Poetry is " the word," 
the thought uttered, rhythmically expressed ; why the word 
is thrown into rhythm rather than into prose, we can easily 
understand. Poetry borders on the domain of music ; both 
aim at affecting the sensibilities directly ; and while music 
is able to effect this through the principles of harmony and 
melody, — poetry approximates to this as near as possible, 
limited as it is by the use of the word, and adopts rhythm, 
which is an approach to the tones of music. Music appeals 



THE CHRISTIAN CULTUS. 91 

directly through the sense of hearing to the sesthetic sensi- 
bilities. It is the expression, the direct language of feeling 
to feeling, and with those who have their sensibilities devel- 
oped, it is at once understood. All of us can appreciate 
the broad distinctions in styles of music. It requires no 
peculiar cultivation of ear to distinguish martial from 
sacred music ; nearly every one can distinguish in music 
the tones of sorrow and sadness from those of joy and 
gladness. The skilful musician can play as effectually 
upon our feelings as he can upon the strings of his instru- 
ment, — a point which is admirably developed by Dryden 
in his ode upon " Alexander's feast." It would seem strange 
that our nature can be thus affected simply by musical tones ; 
but it must be remembered that these tones awaken thoughts ; 
often are supported by words and thoughts ; then the music 
is often only an accompaniment, and by appealing to the 
sensibilities whilst the understanding is addressed, makes 
the word, life, a moving, living influence within the soul. 
Such is the principle involved in all music where its tones 
are supported by words. Thus it is in the ballad ; told, it is 
poetry ; sung, it becomes music. The two taken together 
constitute a class of music. The opera rests upon this same 
principle. There is a plot, a drama ; the music is made to 
harmonize with the events in the drama ; and each event 
becomes a feeling sent home to the heart by the power of 
the accompanying harmonies. The j*oy or sadness, all the 
feelings arising naturally from the character of the incidents 
represented in the drama, are embodied in the harmonies 
and melodies of music ; and thus a duplex result from the 
story and from the music, which intensifies the first, is ob- 
tained; the feelings are deeply affected in following the 
events of the story. 

This principle of music and word in combination, is the 
one usually adopted in church-music. The feelings arising 



92 CHRISTIANITY AND ;ESTnETICS ; OR, 

from the contemplation of the subjects presented in the 
Christian revelation are first clothed in language, and this 
is Christian sacred poetry ; these are the hymns, chants, and 
anthems of the Christian community. These in their turn 
become the basis of a musical inspiration, which is in the 
strictest sense sacred music. The words and the music are 
all one, the feeling embodied in the poetry is the same as 
that which finds expression under the forms of music. 
And this is generally the nature of the Church's sacred 
music ; hence the music of the Roman Mass ; hence the 
grand " Requiem " of Mozart, the " Stabat Mater ; " and all 
that, under Protestantism, is recognized as church music. 

The Church until the era of Protestantism had a regular, 
a recognized style of music ; a certain class of music pecu- 
liarly Christian in its tone was taken possession of by the 
Church and by its ritual adopted as a part of its worship ; 
such, we believe, is still the case in the Church of Rome. 
Up to a late era, Christianity was creative in the region of 
the fine arts. The solemn truths of Christian revelation 
sinking deep into the consciousness of the ages, acted as an 
inspiration, and produced those magnificent creations which 
w^e now have in all the branches of the fine arts. Hence, 
as we have said, those grand old structures, the cathedrals ; 
hence the intense spiritualism of a Raphael, in his incom- 
parable Madonna; hence the grand conceptions of a Michael 
Angelo in architecture, sculpture, and painting ; hence " The 
Last Supper'' of Leonardo di Vinci; hence the unearthly 
harmonies of a Mozart, of a Haydn, a Handel, and of a 
Beethoven, and the other great masters in this art. In all 
such instances, Christianity was an inspiration, it influenced 
man to the highest endeavors, and is a success. 

Protestantism was and still continues to be in most of its 
sections, a reaction against the religion of mere sensibility. 
The development of the sensibilities, without a corre- 



THE CHRISTIAN CULTUS. 93 

sponding enlightenment of the understanding, must in the 
end result in a mere religious sentimentalism, which will be 
sustained by an excessively sensuous ceremonial. Religion 
in the end becomes a pageantry, unmeaning, yet through its 
sensuousness appealing to and gratifying the sensibilities. 
Protestantism was a revolt against such a Christianity ; and 
very naturally, in opposition to the religion previously 
dominant, established a system of culture which had regard 
only to the understanding. The pulpit with us takes the 
place of the Mass ; the ceremonial with all its aesthetic con- 
stituents is very generally suppressed, the sermon and the 
catechism being installed in its place. The ritual becomes 
stringent, the ceremonial meagre, aesthetics becomes all but 
banished as an element in worship. Preaching alone being 
considered as important, the cathedral gives place to the 
hall, or the meeting-house. Thus in some sections of Pro- 
testantism the reaction is so complete, that, as with the 
Quakers, there is no ceremonial. Most of the Protestant 
bodies are not, however, so radical; but have retained 
somewhat of a ceremonial. Preaching must in every Pro- 
testant body, so long as it is true to itself, hold the promi- 
nent position ; but there may be great difference of opinion 
as to how much of the ceremonial is to be retained. And 
there is a great difference among the Protestant bodies as to 
their practice in this respect. The Church of England, of 
all the Reformed bodies, retains the most ornate ceremonial. 
This section of Protestantism, with its j)rogeny the Pro- 
testant Episcopal Church of America, in retaining an ornate 
ceremonial, admits that the sensibilities are to be treated 
with as much respect as the understanding. The Episcopal 
Church both in England and America admits of the legiti- 
macy of employing the fine arts in the service of religion ; 
it indorses, therefore, the principles of aesthetics as ap- 
plicable to religious results. The Episcopal Church does 



94 CHRISTIANITY AND AESTHETICS; OR, 

not ignore the pulpit ; by no means ; she considers it the 
very charter of her religious freedom, the origin and the 
sustainer of her life. But she, too, acknowledges the reality 
of our sensibilities, that we are creatures of feeling as well 
as of understanding ; she recognizes that there is a language 
of feeling as well as of thought. She would recognize the 
cultus of Christianity as well as its doctrines ; she would 
encourage her members in refining that cultus, in producing 
noble creations in all branches of the fine arts ; and while 
thus offering encouragement to genius, she expresses herself 
as willing and anxious to use its productions as elements 
under her ritual. Thus, the Episcopal Church, if properly 
understood, ought to stand before Christian Protestant 
society as the patron of the fine arts ; and as thus offering 
inducements towards their cultivation within its pale. 

Already the pressure of this influence is being felt within 
this Church. So far we have a sacred poetry ; we have our 
chants, anthems, and hymns ; we have those of other ages 
and of other denominations. The poetry of Christianity, in 
its grand outlines, is the same for all ages and denomina- 
tions ; but is this so of music ? The need of the times in 
all the sections of Protestantism, but above all in the Epis- 
copal Church, is for a body of church music. Our hymns 
are the subject of ritual determination, why should not the 
same rule be applied to music ? There is as much variety 
and determinativeness in music as there is in poetry. There 
are various styles of music, and but one is adapted properly 
to be church music. The Roman Church has its music pre- 
scribed by the proper authorities, and we ought to follow 
her example in this respect. We do not permit the intro- 
duction of any kind of poetry by irresponsible parties within 
our services, recognizing the necessity of guarding ourselves 
in this direction ; is it not just as necessary to act with the 
same circumspection in relation to music ? There are dif- 



THE CHRISTIAN CULTUS. 95 

ferent, decided, classes of music, as there are of poetry and 
architecture. The music of the opera is distinctly different 
from that of the Mass and the "Requiem;'' and this again 
differs much from martial music. The music of the drink- 
ing-song in the opera is not appropriate for the hymn. 
There are grave distinctions in the domain of music, and 
it will not do to let any and every one have the deter- 
mination of this important matter. The appropriateness 
of a style of music to a style of thought ; the determination 
of whether the music is adapted to the nature of the matter 
presented before a religious assembly ; whether it correctly 
expresses feelings emanating from the solemn rites of 
religious truth ; this, we say, is an important matter, and 
ought to be settled by the authorities of the Church. The 
music of a Church is as much the subject of ritual regula- 
tion as is its poetry. The importance of this subject is, we 
say, pressing itself upon the Christian Protestant mind. 
All feel the incongruity that often exists in our assemblies 
of public worship between the occasion and the music per- 
formed. It is often to the sensitive soul just as if Byron 
or Shelley were read from the pulpit or chancel. The want 
of correspondence is but too often distressing. It is evi- 
dently time that this matter should be taken in hand, and 
should be dealt with wisely and yet firmly. We are fast 
losing all our refinement, and are scarcely shocked to hear 
the most fantastic music introduced as a part of our public 
worship. 

The drift of this age is within the domain of art, towards 
an sesthetical cultus. All the Protestant bodies are feeling 
this tendency, and the Episcopal body being that which 
has already the most ornate ceremonial, and which, from 
the place it has already given to this principle, is in the 
van, feels it most decidedly. There is a felt necessity of 
yielding more to the demands of the sensibilities than has 



96 CHRISTIANITY AND ESTHETICS ; OR, 

hitherto been done. Some of the sections of Protestantism 
having as their very corner-stone the doctrine of simplicity, 
even bareness of ceremonial, many such bodies are now to 
be seen striving manfully to resist this pressure, but they 
cannot ; most of them have already yielded, have drifted 
far from their original moorings, and are fast sailing out 
upon the prevailing current of £estheticism. It is impossi- 
ble to resist these movements, they are too deep down to be 
reached by anything we can do. This is but the reaction 
of the sensibilities against the understanding. The rights 
of man's sensitive nature were denied, the mind tyrannized 
over the feelings and withheld their rights ; dissatisfaction 
has ensued, and now there is a reaction in favor of the 
religion of feeling. 

The soul longs instinctively for something more than can 
be given through the process of teaching ; it wants exercise 
for its feelings. It longs for a cultus through which it can 
express itself; hence, a reaction ; and now we must be upon 
our guard lest this go too far; lest the pulpit be dethroned, 
and religion again become mere sestheticism and sentimen- 
talism. This is the danger of the present, and already there 
are indications of its imminence. 

There is evidently a movement towards the readjustment 
of the claims of the pulpit and the ceremonial. Since, 
however, human nature never rests in equilibrium, it is to 
be feared that the idea of a readjustment is but, after all, a 
pretext, while the real strength and direction of the move- 
ment is towards ceremonialism ; tow^ards sensuousness and 
ritualism, as it is generally denominated. The danger to 
which the pulpit is subjected, especially in the Episcopal 
Church, under this movement, is evident, and is a matter 
of concern to all thoughtful Episcopalians ; we say Episco- 
palians because here the movement is first felt. In the end, 
however, it will affect all the other sections of Protestan- 



THE CHRISTIAN CULTUS. 97 

tism ; most of them, as we have said, have yielded much 
already. These movements do not belong to any one par- 
ticular body, but to the age. The appearance of such a 
movement may be sooner in one body than in another ; but 
it will finally be manifest in all, and essay to sweep all into 
the same common vortex. This tendency towards sensu- 
ousness and ceremonialism is evident in all the Protestant 
bodies ; and if it does not sweep them away, it will, at least, 
sweep many of their numbers off, carrying them finally into 
the vortex of Romanism, if no other resting-place can be 
found. It is folly to impute such a tendency to any one 
denomination, it is a spirit pervading all. It is the same 
spirit which dragged the whole Church finally into the 
ecclesiasticism and formalism of Medisevalism. Protestan- 
tism was a reaction against it ; but now it is beginning to 
operate again. It has, as a basis of truth, the source of its 
power, the sensibilities of the soul, and the necessity of 
their demands. It has, as its negative cause, the decay of 
true spiritual religion, the advance of materialism and the 
increase of worldliness. It is just, inasmuch as it demands 
an adequate Christian cultus, a field in which it can exer- 
cise its esthetic impulses. It is false, in seeming only, to 
demand so much. It aims, really, at banishing the pulpit 
from our churches, and at re-establishing the Mediaeval 
form of Christianity in its place. Consistently with this 
tendency, we see in the Episcopal Church the pulpit retir- 
ing more and more into the background ; pushed aside into 
some nook or corner in order to make way for the chancel, 
its altar and lights, and the pomp of a gorgeous ceremonial. 
How Protestantism is to avoid this issue it is hard to see ; 
in fact, it has been forced upon us already. The proper 
solution of the difficulty would naturally be, the proper 
proportionating or adjustment of the intellectual and 
^tlietic or sensitive element, in the economy and worship 
9 Q 



98 CHRISTIANITY AND ESTHETICS; OR, 

of the Church. Protestantism must affirm its right to a 
Christian cultus. It must cease to be iconoclastic, and to 
denounce the language of the sensibilities. It must learn 
to encourage the fine arts in all their branches, and to admit 
them judiciously, as elements within its pale and its ritual. 

The Church of England, in its constitution, thought that 
it had adopted such a system. While in her reform she 
avoided the sensuousness of Rome, she at the same time 
steered clear of the stern iconoclasm of Puritanism. In her 
position, she sanctioned a Christian cultus and admitted the 
right of aesthetics to have a place under the church ritual. 
Such a position is apparently wise and just, it sanctions the 
satisfaction of both branches of human nature. It endorses, 
encourages, and adopts art ; at the same time it addresses 
itself through the pulpit to the understanding. Such a form 
of Christianity is, therefore, seemingly adapted to the wants 
of human nature, for all ages. And if this be true, then 
the Episcopal Church both in England and in this country 
will be able to meet, and finally to emerge triumphant from 
this movement of this age. With this Church, the w^hole 
matter turns, upon its holding fast to its pulpit ; in resisting 
its ostracism or even being pushed out of the way, as is now 
but too often the case, to make room for the altar and its 
candlesticks. This disrespectful way of treating the pulpit 
must be put a stop to, or the Episcopal Church is, for the 
present, gone. If the pulpit be silenced, the time will not 
be long, before Episcopalianism becomes Romanism. 

There are palpable indications all around us of a revolt 
in the spirit of the age against the gross materialism that 
has hitherto so generally predominated. The intense ma- 
terialism of this age, and of this country, with its concomi- 
tant worldliness, has at length reached its climax ; it has 
become absolutely insupportable. Every sensitive soul, 
every soul that is not absolutely dead, to all that is beauti- 



THE CHRISTIAN CULTUS. dv 

ful, true, and good, must feel that this is so. The flatness, 
the earthliness of life, has become insufferable. " The life 
is more than meat and the body than raiment,'' there is 
more in life than to eat, drink, and be merry. Wealth and 
material prosperity are not God, though they are apparently 
the god of this age ; but there are souls which are not satis- 
fied with such a worship ; souls which cannot bow down and 
sell themselves body and soul, even to mammon. There is 
then a revolt against the miserable unsatisfactory earthli- 
ness of this age. There is a craving, a yearning, for some- 
thing more than it can give ; and this is the reason of that 
reaction against all this, and towards medisevalism, of which 
we are the witnesses, and which we feel within our own con- 
sciousness. A glamour seems to spread itself over the past. 
In the hazy distance it becomes attractive : the solitudes of 
the hermit, the calm seclusion of the monastery and of the 
convent, the dim aisle of the cathedral with its gloomy 
vaulted roof, expressive of the solemnity of eternity. The 
evening vespers rising softly through the dim twilight, the 
low " Miserere '* and the solemn " Requiem " chanting for 
the dead ; a halo seems to gather as we look back into the 
past, and to rest upon these solemn memories ; and in con- 
trast with the flatness that everywhere surrounds us, in 
which we are enveloped, saturated and numbed to the bone; 
through this contrast medisevalism has become resuscitated. 
There is a yearning for something grander and nobler than 
what the dry bones around us can offer. We want life and 
poetry and music, all that is true and beautiful and good, 
that which appeals to our nobler and better feelings ; and 
not forever, the dronings of a half dead pulpit, and the 
eternal declamations of a spiritless science. 

Man cannot live always but for money, and for politics, 
in absolute worldliness ; nor for the physical sciences alone. 
The nobler portion of man's nature, the spiritual, will in the 



100 CHRISTIANITY AND ESTHETICS; OR, 

end assert itself and demand its food. And though the age 
may presume to sneer at all that is lofty and noble and 
generous, and assume to stigmatize, as chivalry, all that is 
noble and generous ; nevertheless, though all this may not 
be of any money value, still it will manage to survive, and 
will prove finally that it alone is the reality. 

The movement in the direction of the spiritual, towards 
the true, the beautiful, and the good, is a reality, and a tide 
which every hour will find setting in stronger and stronger. 
The Church feels the movement and ought to respond to it. 
It means, away with materialism, bring in the spiritual. 
Art never triumphed in a materialistic age; materialism 
kills all inspiration ; it may be the age of science, but it 
means death to art. The artist is a man of soul, with an in- 
spiration ; he cannot breathe freely in a scientific age ; an 
age w^hich denies spirit can perceive none ; not even in a 
Raphael, a Michael Angelo, nor in a Mozart, a Beethoven, 
or a Mendelssohn. There is a promise then of better things 
in this movement towards a modern cultus. The Church 
must take it by the hand and lead it on encouragingly, as 
a protest against the gross materialism and base worldli- 
ness, that is now so generally prevalent. 

The earthliness of sciences and materialism, renders them, 
as influences, weak ; of themselves they can never for any 
length of time hold human nature in bondage under them ; 
the spirituality of that nature demands something that 
neither of these instrumentalities can supply. A system of 
religious ^stheticism is. far more competent to hold society 
in subjection, than is science or materialism ; hence the 
power that the Roman Catholic system has ever exercised 
over society, and will continue to exercise, until the end 
of time. Man is easily controlled through his religious 
feelings ; and an artistic religious system, where the cere- 
monial is sensuous and affecting ; where all the concomi- 



THE CHRISTIAN CULTUS. 101 

tants of place and time, are, in accordance with the prin- 
ciples of sestheticism, so adapted, as to impress men through 
their religious feelings; with such conditions, a religious 
system can easily be established, which will effectually 
hold mankind in bondage; and will do so, just because 
it satisfies some of the deepest yearnings and cravings of 
human nature. 

This then is the issue that we in this age of Protestantism 
are forced to meet; to be judicious, we must encourage this 
revolt against earthliness, must endeavor to satisfy these 
awakened spiritual cravings ; yet without descending to sen- 
suousness ; and while on the one hand, through our cultus 
and our ritual, we protest against the materialism of Ration- 
alism, on the other hand, through our pulpit, we as de- 
cidedly protest against the sentimentalism, mere sestheti- 
cism, and superstition, of sensuousness. 

The adoption of a system of aesthetics, and the application 
of its principles within the sphere of the Church's public 
worship ; the use of aesthetics, as an element in public wor- 
ship, constitutes what is especially the Christian cultus. 
All religions use aesthetics ; the Christian Religion is no ex- 
ception. But while such an use and application of aesthetics 
is, w^hat is, par excellence, the Christian cultus, yet there is 
at the same time, a wider sense in which this may be under- 
stood. ^Esthetics, is, as we have shown, wider than the mere 
public worship of the Church, it is a department of human 
nature, just as much so, as is the intellectual, that depart- 
ment which relates to reason ; as much so, as is the moral. 
Besides the true, and the good, there is also the beautiful. 
Reason takes cognizance of the true ; conscience of the good, 
and the aesthetic sensitiveness of the beautiful. In order to 
the full culture of human nature, each of these departments 
must receive its proper attention. True, there is a grada- 
tion, in' the importance attaching to these several depart- 
9* 



102 CHUISTIANITY AND ESTHETICS; OR, 

ments of human culture. With justice it may be said that 
the true and the good are of more importance than the 
beautiful. But such a distinction must be taken with great 
caution, for though in the abstract this may seem to be true, 
still in the concrete living agent it may prove to be an 
untruth. Human nature, constituted, as it is at present, 
invariably tends to become one-sided ; it can only do one 
thing at a time. Thus we see periods like the present, 
when education is the " hue and cry." Education, it is now 
thought, can do everything. It will enlighten man, make 
him moral, religious, refined, and everything else. Only 
learn to read, and everything will follow, civilization is en- 
sured, the millennium is at hand. And now behold the litera- 
ture of the age, that class of it which is most generally 
read ! Can it do any good ? Can reading of deeds of dark- 
ness and of all the foul wickedness which is set forth in the 
cheap literature of the day do any good ? Already it has 
become a question with many, whether the press is not a 
curse rather than a blessing to the mass of civilized society. 
And yet it seems to be thought, only educate, that is 
enable to read and write, and all is done. True, edu- 
cation, teaching to read, and thus enabling the human 
being to educate himself, is all well enough. But is it 
enough? that is the question. Here is the one-sidedness 
to which human nature is so unfortunately prone. So far 
from being an end this ought to be only the beginning. Man 
has more than one side to his nature. Besides an intellect and 
the power to appropriate knowledge, he has a conscience, a 
religious consciousness, and an aesthetic sensitiveness. Con- 
science, requires as much, and as careful culture as does the 
intellect ; and the same is true of the religious consciousness. 
God must ever be an influence in the human consciousness ; 
it is all-important then, that the human being should be 
made to know the true God. And then, of the aesthetic 



THE CHRISTIAN CULTUS. 103 

sensitiveness, that, though at first sight, although apparently, 
not of so much practical importance, yet in the end, will be 
found a powerful principle in human nature. And that 
this is so, is proved by the mighty and until now, invincible 
influence, which the Roman Church has wielded over the 
great mass of Christendom ; and all, by sagaciously using this 
element of sesthetics. Man after all is more effectually in- 
fluenced through his feelings, than through any other chan- 
nel. That, in human nature, which responds to the beautiful, 
is a much greater power, than it has heretofore been recog- 
nized, as being. The Roman Church has sagaciously 
adopted this principle, but as yet, a:s an element in human 
nature, it has never been philosophically unfolded. It is 
too often thought that sesthetics belongs but to the few, that 
it is an esoteric system, and can be applied only to the cul- 
tivated and refined. Yet it is the mass of mankind, the 
rabble, that is influenced, most through the feelings. It is 
true that the higher the culture the more capable of appre- 
ciating ; but not of feeling, of being moved. The commonest, 
rudest man can feel music, and can be moved as deeply by 
it as the most refined and cultivated. All men can feel 
what in aesthetics appeals to the feelings. The cultivated 
man can understand, analyze, and perhaps in this sense- 
more fully appreciate the production. But all of us have 
these feelings. Intellect is aristocratic, it must and will 
have exoteric, and esoteric domains ; but feeling is demo- 
cratic, it belongs to all, is generic. All mankind may not 
like to study, but all do like to feel, and all can feel ; all like 
poetry and music ; the few who are deficient in these respects 
are evidently exceptions, and so prove the rule. All love 
poetry, though of different kinds ; all love true poetry and 
music, and all that is really beautiful, in nature and in art. 
The high and the low, the poor as well as the rich, all here 
meet together, all can feel in harmony, all are one. Es- 
thetics is a mighty influence in human nature, and is not to 



104 CHRISTIANITY AND ESTHETICS. 

be ignored. It is right to cultivate the intellect, to teach the 
conscience, to inform the religious consciousness ; and it is 
right and necessary also to cultivate the aesthetic sensitive- 
ness. To encourage the taste for the beautiful and to culti- 
vate it, is at the same time to refine man and to make him 
a nobler being. It is to raise human nature out of the degra- 
dation of brutality and to elevate it to the position due to it 
as being in the image and likeness of the Great God. 

Christianity does not propose to degrade man, it does not 
demand the suppression of anything concreated with human 
nature. It demands the extirpation of sin, but nothing 
more. It takes all that is really human and consecrates it ; 
it uses all the powers of human nature in the furtherance 
of its benign designs. It adopts then, and consecrates, man's 
aesthetic powers. It demands their culture, and that they 
be devoted to the glory of God. It is a mistake to think 
that all that pertains to this branch of man's nature is un- 
hallowed ; to hold as some do that aesthetics is sensuous- 
ness, unspiritual, carnal ; no more so than is reason and intel- 
lectual culture. Of course there is the danger of exaggera- 
tion and of one-sidedness in this direction, just as there is in 
everything else that is human. Human nature will proceed 
to extremes, will become one-sided, and exaggerate one ele- 
ment until it becomes false, and therefore dangerous, just 
as it is now doing with intellectual culture. But, still the 
fact remains ; aesthetic sensitiveness is a principle in human 
nature, a talent which ought to be improved. Let culture 
then, be human, many-sided, and then perhaps it will c^e 
to be exaggerated and false. Educate the intellect ; but at 
the same time teach the conscience and exercise its powers. 
Teach man to know the true God, and Jesus Christ whom 
He has sent ; and at the same time cultivate the aesthetic 
feelings and so refine, elevate, and cultivate the whole man. 
Such is the culture which human Aature, and which Chris- 
tianity demands. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE PULPIT — ITS KELATION TO SOCIETY; AND ITS 

DUTY. 

IT is very evident to the careful observer that the pulpit 
can no longer be considered a leading influence in the 
realm of thought. It no longer leads; but is led; it no 
longer guides and directs the current of thought of the age ; 
but it is guided and directed by it. The philosophy of the 
age, gradually penetrating society, finally reaches the pulpit, 
and inevitably in due time, the pulpit will feel its effects 
and be influenced by it. Just in accordance with the phi- 
losophy and spirit of the age, will be the utterances of the 
pulpit. Thus at one time we will have a transcendental 
pulpit, the Gospel according to Schelling or Hegel, or some 
other German philosopher; at another time a Geological 
pulpit, the Gospel or revelation according to Lyell or 
Huxley, or some other such savant. At one time we have 
revelation interpreted in accordance with the theory of 
catastrophism, at another time in accordance with uni- 
formitarianism, or evolutionism. The pulpit adapting itself 
to the requirements of any of the reigning or even popular 
theories of the day. Evidently the pulpit is but the pupil 
and follower of some higher power ; it is afloat upon the 
intellectual current of the age. By whom is that current 
directed ? What is the leading influence within the realm 
of thought in this present age ? Who are the leaders of the 
thought of the age? Evidently the writers of the age, 

105 



106 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

writers who • are at the same time thinkers. The thinkers 
of the age, who are writers, stand in the van of the progress 
of the age. They are responsible for the thought of the 
times ; they first think it, then write it, and so promulge it. 
Thought thus enunciated imbues other minds, becomes their 
thought, and so influential. 

Thought is self-propagating, it depends not on the prin- 
ciple of authority, nor of personal influence, it is the most 
subtile of all influences ; thrown out by the thinker or writer, 
if clear and well defined, it at once gets into the intellectual 
atmosphere of the age and so pervades it, so that the at- 
mosphere becomes absolutely saturated with it. As an in- 
tellectual atmosphere it comes in contact with the intellec- 
tual lungs of the men of the age, they breathe it and, un- 
consciously perhaps, become inoculated ; it enters into their 
intellectual system, and they find themselves thinking what 
the writer thought and wrote, without really knowing 
whence or wherefore. The unconscious power of thought is 
its most striking characteristic. The writer who is a thinker 
wields a most tremendous influence upon the destiny of this 
world of ours. 

In the van of the march of thought stands the thinker 
who is a writer ; he directs the current, he therefore is re- 
sponsible for the thought of the age. The pulpit is an in- 
fluence, but subordinate to this ; the pulpit is but, what the 
writers of the age make it. It is influential as a subordi- 
nate power ; but it is by no means a leading influence. 

There are two ways, by means of which, man, in using 
the word may influence his fellow-man ; first by means of 
personal address, through the word spoken ; secondly by the 
written word, the unconscious way ; by means of the innate 
power of thought. 

In using the instrumentality of the spoken word, or per- 
sonal address, man aims to influence his fellow-man directly. 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 107 

Mind, in this method, is brought into immediate contact with 
mind ; not through the medium of thought, but through that 
of the whole personality. The person or persons addressed 
are not made to think ; but are urged rather to action. A 
psychical pressure is brought to bear upon an audience of 
listeners. They are urged, are entreated, are argued with, 
are moved by every means within the orator's power, to be 
convinced, or perhaps to act. It is not the power of the 
speaker's thought that is brought to bear upon the hearer's 
mind. The hearer is not thinking, rather he is listening. 
It is not the speaker's thought that is operating, but him- 
self, his personal influence, his arguments, his eloquence, 
his whole personal efficacy is brought into action. It is, in 
fine, the contact of man with man, the influence of person- 
ality upon personality that is exerted, in this mode of ad- 
dress; and thus it often happens that in addition to the 
natural, artificial means are also resorted to, in order to 
secure the desired end. Arts of rhetoric, oratorical displays, 
sophisms, anything calculated to move or convince is often 
surreptitiously introduced in order to gain one's point, and 
influence the audience. Thus the hearer is overpowered, 
perhaps convinced, not however by the power of thought ; 
but by the power and art of the speaker. The principles 
brought to bear are many, the influence is a complex one ; 
all of its elements however reside in, and are exercised by 
the human personality. The hearer has perhaps been in- 
fluenced in the manner and in the direction desired ; but 
the w^ork is neither deep nor thorough. Thought has not 
propagated itself. The thought of the speaker, w^hen he 
really has one, has not become the thought of his hearer. 
He has not sowed thoughts in the mind of his audience, he 
has only influenced them, directly through his personality, 
and not through the medium of thought. True, there are 
speakers who really think aloud; but then such are not 



108 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

properly speakers but writers. To sow thought is not pro- 
perly the province of the speaker, but of the writer. The 
man who speaks thus ought not to speak but to write, such 
evidently is his true vocation. The influence exerted by 
the speaker is an immediate active one ; that by the writer 
is in the first place a passive one. The mind influenced is 
primarily in a passive state. It is in the first place a recip- 
ient, receives into itself the thought of another, which hence- 
forth becomes its own. Sometimes this process of inocula- 
tion is observed and known, sometimes it is not. Thus 
oftentimes a thought will be enunciated, under the impres- 
sion that it is original when in fact it has been thus obtained. 
It is curious to observe how the intellectual atmosphere be- 
comes thus charged at given times with the electricity of 
thought. Whether thought is indeed, to the spiritual, what 
electricity is to the material, it is hard to tell. It would 
seem as though at certain times, the intellectual atmosphere 
became thus charged with thought, otherwise, how is it, that 
we often see the same thought breaking out at different 
places, in different minds, widely separated, at the same 
time. Whether it is that this thought has been enunciated 
and has propagated itself, until it has become an atmos- 
phere, the spirit of the age, or whether it be true that like 
electricity there is some principle in the spiritual realm 
corresponding to it, which thus affects all intellectually 
sensitive minds at the same time, which of these theories is 
the true one, we cannot say. But evident it is to any ob- 
server that the same thoughts occur to different and widely 
separated minds, at the same time; whether it is thought pro- 
pounded that originates this atmosphere, or that the atmos- 
phere produces the thought, no one can certainly say. The 
movement of thought in its origin and its self-propagation 
is so subtile, as to render it impossible Accurately to detect 
it, so that no one can know with absolute certainty whether 
his thought is original or derived. 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 109 

The writers who make and direct the intellectual move- 
ments of the ages, are, as we have said, thinkers. What is 
a thinker? A thinker primarily is an observer. Most 
men pass through life without to any extent developing 
their powers yf observation ; or perhaps they are originally 
deficient in this respect. It is wonderful how little we 
attend to and observe what is continually passing before 
our eyes and coming immediately under our observation. 
Seeing, we see not, hearing, we hear not, nor understand. 
Life is merely mechanical ; we live, move, and have our be- 
ing like mere machines. The child is naturally an observer, 
his mind is generally open to impressions from without ; and 
moreover he is an inquirer. Hence the child learns and 
improves so rapidly ; but as maturity advances the power 
seems to- wane, and in most cases seems actually to disap- 
pear. Things are observed by human beings but with a 
stolid gaze ; stupidly like the brutes we look at things and 
events ; but our minds seem dazed, we derive no light nor 
knowledge, nor benefit from experience. The man whose 
attention is open, who is on the alert, who intelligently 
notes and observes what he sees and hears, necessarily be- 
comes and is a thinker. Observation gives him the material 
for thought. Such material is suggestive, it leads to reflec- 
tion, and reflection leads to generalization, or even,. should 
we stop short of generalization, still the very observation 
itself is interesting and a valuable acquisition to the mind. 
Some thinkers are only observers, nothing more. They note 
the facts in mind or matter which others pass by ; they re- 
cord these facts ; they enunciate them as their observations, 
in their writings : and others who have not the power to 
make such observations for themselves are pleased and in- 
terested in thus having the work done for, and offered to 
them by others. It is always a pleasure to read of such ob- 
servations, and to experience that satisfaction which invari- 
10 



110 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

ably results when we can verify the observation and feel 
that it is so, to find the confirmation of such observation in 
one's own consciousness, or in one's ow^n experience. Pro- 
vided then the writer be only an observer, a thoughtful 
observer, even then, he is interesting, and a thinker. A 
thinker is then primarily an observer. 

But the thinker may do more than observe — ^he may also 
reflect ; he may classify his observations, and then proceed 
to reflect upon such recombination, and thus arrive at a 
new creation, a new thought. He observes persons or 
things ; he reflects upon his observations ; he advances, and 
states a new truth ; he is leading the current of thought. 

Observation may be directed towards several classes of 
objects. First, there are such objects as present themselves 
before the senses, the phenomena and facts of nature. 
Some minds are peculiarly attracted by this class of ob- 
jects ; some minds are always open to the aspects of nature ; 
some naturally observing plants, some animals; some 
things terrestrial, others things celestial. There are some 
who are naturally botanists, others naturalists ; some geol- 
ogists, others astronomers. And that class of facts which 
would arrest the attention of one of these classes of minds 
would fail to attract the attention of another. What the 
botanist would observe, the naturalist would pass over, and 
vice versa. What the geologist would be attracted by, would 
perhaps fail to arrest the attention of the astronomer. The 
one is looking at and regarding the earth, the other the heav- 
ens. All are, however, observers : they attend to that class of 
facts which happens to interest them ; then they observe and 
record, and finally commit them to writing. Observers are 
the hewers of wood and drawers of water in the realms of 
Science ; they furnish the crude material only. Few, how- 
ever, are only such ; this is but the first step in the process 
of construction. Having observed the concrete, these ob- 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. Ill 

servations become next the subjects of reflection, so that in 
due time we will have recorded the reflections of an ob- 
server, which will appear, first, in the form of deductions, 
hypotheses, and finally as laws. Then in turn observation 
may be directed upon such laws ; reflections may be sug- 
gested by them, and so on indefinitely the process may be 
continued. 

The attention of the scientist naturally impinges itself 
upon the facts and phenomena of nature, that is of the 
world, considered as external. The attention of the meta- 
physician, on the other hand, fastens itself upon abstrac- 
tions ; upon space and time, upon substance, spirit, or mat- 
ter seeking to penetrate into them and to comprehend them. 
The metaphysician has an afiinity for abstractions, and can 
hold them as steadily before the consciousness as the scien- 
tist can his phenomena. Again, the psychologist naturally 
observes, by means of introspection, the operations of mind 
and of soul ; his attention is constantly directed inwards ; 
he is ever on the alert to detect the movements within ; any 
operation within no sooner takes place than it is seized 
upon, grasped tightly in the pincers of introspection, and 
held up steadily before the consciousness for examination. 
The natural philosopher looks at the outward ; the mental 
philosopher, psychologist, observes the inward. The meta- 
physician observes abstractions, spiritual substance, the in- 
finite. Naturally, the metaphysician passes over into the 
theologian, whose province it is to behold God, which in 
vain he strives to do, but cannot. The thought of God is 
too tremendous to be grasped and so held before the con- 
A^ sciousness for examination. Hence the necessity of falling 
back upon revelation, which thereupon becomes the object 
of the theologian's attention. 

The classes of objects which may attract the mind's atten- 
tion are then numerous, and according to the nature of the 



112 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

class of objects which attracts, we designate the order of 
mind. The man who is peculiarly observant of the facts 
of matter we denominate the natural philosopher, physicist, 
or scientist. Perhaps he is an astronomer, or a geologist, 
or a naturalist, just according to the nature of the objects 
by which he is most attracted, and which he makes it his 
practice to observe. Or he may be a metaphysician, a 
theologian, or a psychologist. In each of these cases it is 
the predominant tendency of the mind which serves to 
designate the province of the observer. Not that any man 
has only one of these tendencies — he may combine many; 
and seldom do we find any one mind thus exclusively de- 
veloped, a mind with one prevailing tendency so exclusively 
dominant as to appear to have no other. There are such 
cases, however ; when the observer has a passion, almost a 
mania, for one pursuit ; and perhaps those who excel most 
in any one department of investigation, and who have been 
most instrumental in the advance of science, have been 
such men, of one idea, or rather of one ruling passion. But, 
ordinarily, it happens that while one tendency is predom- 
inant, still, the same man who is an observer in one depart- 
ment of knowledge, is more or less so in another. Thus he 
is capable of a comparative knowledge, and can compare 
his observations made in one department of knowledge 
with those made in another. The difiiculty with such ob- 
servers is, that they are apt to be superficial, or that, while 
from their prevailing tendency in one direction, their ob- 
servations so far may be accurate and valuable; yet in 
other departments, being superficial, their observations are 
not carefully made, and are therefore worthless ; yet such 
men are apt to pass from one department of knowledge to 
another, and to dogmatize as much upon what they do not 
know as upon what they do. Thus the scientist will essay 
to pass over into the domain of the metaphysician and of 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 113 

the theologian ; will proceed from what he does know to 
what he does not, and without at all observing what such 
philosophers do observe, he dogmatizes and thinks he has 
overturned all their empty speculations ; and vice versd, 
the theologian and metaphysician will act in the same 
manner with respect to the domain of the natural philos- 
opher. Few minds are able to contemplate accurately more 
than one class of objects ; in one direction ; in one domain, 
they are, or may be, strong, in others they are weak, and 
their observations and reflections worthless. There are 
some, however, who are valuable observers within the whole 
realm of knowledge, whose power of comparison is there- 
fore invaluable, seeing they can compare what they see and 
know. Humboldt was such an one ; Leibnitz also approx- 
imated thereto, and Kant : hence their schemes of the Uni- 
verse. But such minds are rare. 

Another class of minds, differing from all the preceding, 
are especially inclined to take cognizance of and observe 
events in history, and within the current times. Such 
minds, in reading history, cannot but be arrested by its 
leading events ; these events attract their attention, are re- 
corded as observations, and thereupon become in their 
turn the subjects of reflection, which gradually assumes the 
form of a theory, or a philosophy of history, as it is called. 
Such observations and such historians generally prove in- 
teresting, for man is always most interested in what relates 
to his own spirit. 

Observers of events in history are apt to watch the course 
of current events. The world in its busy struggle for wealth 
or power, or in its efibrt to obtain happiness, drags on its 
history, unobservant, in any intelligent manner, of the 
. events which are happening continually in its midst. All 
its members are busy in their several departments, all are 
fully immersed in their own peculiar employments, and 
10* H 



114 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

none are situated so as to watch the general results of that 
vast complexity of forces which are constantly operating 
within society. There are but few minds which are capable 
of catching the thread of history ; few who can lay hold 
upon and keep strictly before the attention that grand 
unity, namely, the drift of the age. 

The complexity of all the forces acting within the world 
resolves itself finally into one ; in other words, all these 
forces acting at the sam^ time unequally in different direc- 
tions, have in the end but one common resultant, which is 
the " drift of* the age." In physics there is, it is said, a 
correlation of forces, all being finally resolvable into one 
which no doubt will at length be found to be volition, the 
will of God ; so in history there is too a correlation of 
forces, forces acting through the medium of humanity, 
through free agency, broken into innumerable forms of ac- 
tivity ; yet all in the end resolvable into one, which will be 
found, as in the other case, to be the will of God. A final 
analysis of the forces operating within the sphere of history 
would give us two, the will of God and the will of man. 
Man being sinful, his will must necessarily act more or less 
in opposition to the will of God ; in the resultant flowing 
from these antagonistic forces we have the drift of the age, 
which is the will of God, within the conditions of free 
agency, so far realized. The drift of the age is, then, but 
the will of God in realization ; history is that will acting 
within the category of creature free agency, and therefore 
incomprehensible to us. But in the final resultant in the 
" drift of the age," we have that will eliminated and pre- 
sented clearly before us — the will of God subjecting itself 
to the limitations of an antagonistic free agency — ■ realized. 

" Drift of the age," purposely we thus designate this his- 
torical resultant. Whither that drift? to what does it 
tend? Is it forward or backward? a progress or a 



society; and its duty. 115 

retrogression ? Progress of the age or of civilization is the 
doctrine of the day. But is it true ? What do we mean by 
progress ? Is it that mankind as a whole, as a race, is be- 
coming better, holier, more like God ? Is it that we know 
more than the ancients ? Is it that we can build- mightier 
pyramids than those of Egypt ? grander temples than those 
of Karnak and of Luxor, and those of Greece ? Have we 
better poets than Homer and Virgil ? better historians than 
Thucydides and C^sar and Tacitus and Livy ? Have we 
deeper thinkers than Aristotle and Plato and Xenophon 
and Plutarch ? Have we finer orators than Demosthenes 
and Cicero? In what respect is it that there is an advance? 
Not in art ; not in poetry. Have we any, in morals ? - — even 
that is a question. In science and its result, mechanical 
inventions, we have indeed advanced ; and perhaps our peo- 
ple, as a general rule, are more generally educated than 
were the ancients ; but more than this it is hard to grant. 
In some things we seem to have advanced, in others to have 
retrograded and to have fallen behind the ancients ; and, 
perhaps, after all, we are simply like them — having our 
day. We Westerns have our peculiar genius, and are but 
realizing it. We are scientific, so far as concerns the phys- 
ical sciences, and are mecha.nical ; we are industrious and 
manufacturers, and we succeed in traffic ; but perhaps after 
all, this is but our particular bent or genius. The ancients 
realized their dominant tendencies, and are gone. Where 
is Nineveh, and Babylon, and Tyre, and Si don ; and where 
are Thebes and Memphis, Athens and Carthage, and even 
mighty Rome itself ? — where are they all now ? Where 
are the once glorious cities of Asia Minor, Ephesus, Antioch, 
Pergamos, Laodicea, Thyatira, and Tadmor, the gem of the 
Desert — where are they all ? Gone ! w^here we too, having 
lived out our generation, and having realized our destiny, 
shall doubtless have gone too ; and wiien this stands out a 



116 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

resultant, eliminated in history, would we call it progress ? 
Progress ! What is progress ? that is the question. In art 
the ancients seemingly excelled us : witness the grand and 
solemn structures of Egypt, and the noble temples of an- 
cient Greece. In poetry they are not surpassed. As 
thinkers, Aristotle and Plato have never been equalled, and 
still hold the sceptre of dominion in the realm of thought. 
As dramatists, JEschylus and Sophocles and Euripedes still 
stand equal to any, with the one exception of Shakspeare. 
The fact is, the genius of the ancients is the well, from which 
in these respects, we have ever since been drawing our inspi- 
ration ; the mines from which it would seem we must forever 
dig material. As to general intellectual enlightenment, we 
doubt whether Christendom, as a whole, can boast itself as 
much in advance of ancient Greece and Rome. China 
seems even to excel us in this respect, its people being said 
to be universally educated. 

In mechanical appliances, and in the means of traffic and 
general intercourse, without doubt we excel the ancients. 
One department only remains, — that is the religious and 
moral. And as to religion without morals, which should be 
its result ; so far as society is concerned — it is nothing ; so 
then as to morals. 

Is the njorality of Christendom purer than was that of 
ancient Greece and Rome ? purer than that of the ancient 
world ? Candidly speaking, we doubt it. Christianity has 
certainly offered a lofty standard, purer and nobler than 
any which has preceded it ; but has that standard become 
the morality of the world, nay, even of Christendom ? 
Confucius proposes a noble standard of morality ; so does 
Buddha. Most of the religions of the world, past and pres- 
ent, are not remiss in this respect ; but offer a much higher 
standard of morality than has ever actually been put into 
practice. And is this all that Christianity proposes to do ? 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 117 

Is it like other forms of religion, only to offer such a stand- 
ard ? has it no more power than they ? or, does it propose 
to make its standard a fact, a reality, in the lives of its re- 
cipients ? Is Christianity, like Confucianism and Buddhism, 
and Parseeism and Mohammedanism, a mere law ? has it 
no power within itself to transform the life of the nations, 
and to make them what its standard demands, to be pure 
in heart, God-like, Christ-like ? And if such is the aim of 
Christianity, can we say that so far it has been successful ? 
Witness the morality of the great cities of Christendom ; 
witness the daily journals teeming with the details of crime; 
witness the licentiousness, the injustice, the base hypocrisy, 
the abominable wickedness that abounds everywhere, yes, 
in every little community in this wide-spread country ; wit- 
ness the rottenness that pervades and consumes the whole 
mass of society which calls itself Christian, and then say 
has Christian morality become a fact ! Christianity cannot 
intend or propose to regenerate the world at large ; if it 
did, then so far it is a failure. No ; Christianity would, in 
its spirit, embrace and redeem all,- but all will not be re- 
deemed ; and it is no brute force, therefore, while it redeems 
those who will, who are susceptible, the few who hunger 
and thirst after righteousness, who are mourners in this 
world of hideous vileness and injustice, who are persecuted 
for righteousness' sake ; these, such Christianity saves ; in 
them the standard of Christ is realized ; and only inasmuch 
as they are persecuted for his sake, and thus are brought 
into conformity with him, being made perfect through suf- 
fering. To suppose that Christianity proposes, or rather 
that it will in the end — for it would if it could ; — to sup- 
pose that it ever will regenerate the whole world and make 
all men holy, is, we affirm, a grand, a profound mistake, a 
melancholy delusion. It is to misunderstand the whole 
scheme of redemption ; it is to misinterpret Scripture ; it is 



118 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

in the end to go over to infidelity and to throw up the 
whole thing as a failure. Any who expect thus to see the 
world gradually being regenerated and rendered purer and 
holier, will find themselves sadly mistaken. And if the 
belief in Christianity as a divine institution rests upon such 
a basis, it will in the end prove to be but a foundation of 
sand. Christianity, in its idea and in its spirit, would in- 
clude all mankind and redeem them from the dominion of 
sin. But as to its result, that such will be the case, is an- 
other thing. Christianity offered itself as a salvation to the 
Jews ; but what was the result? We must remember that 
man has a say in the matter. The nation, as a mass, re- 
jected Christianity, crucified its founder, and cast Him out. 
Only the true Israel, a few, a remnant, were saved. The 
proposal of God was to all ; but few would close with it. 
The resultant, the drift of the age, the Divine will realized, 
appears in the remnant which was saved. Just so under 
the present dispensation. The resultant, from the complex 
forces of Christianity, as now directed and acting upon the 
Gentile portion of humanity, the resultant will again appear 
as in the former case in the regeneration and redemption 
of only a few. The w^orld at large — Christian society as 
it calls itself — ever rejects Christianity; steels itself against 
the efficacy of its forces ; will not have its Lord to reign 
over it. Thus, so far from the Christian standard becom- 
ing that of the world at large, it tramples it under foot, and 
oftentimes persecutes those who would make it theirs. 
Christianity, then, would save all ; but of course can only 
benefit those who, feeling their need and its fulness, submit 
themselves to it, and open themselves to the operation of 
its forces. 

The doctrine of progress predominant in this age, now 
current, has its root in this delusion. It assumes, that in 
the world, the presence of Christianity will have this eflfect, 



society; and its duty. 119 

that gradually penetrating human society, it will in the 
end take entire possession of it, that it will finally regener- 
ate it, that is, make it pure and holy — make it, in fact, a 
heaven of this sin-stricken world of ours. Pursuant to such 
a theory, it is thought that perceptibly, society, within the 
pale of Christianity, is growing better, purer, and holier. 
But when, on a closer inspection, this appears to be false ; 
when, on the contrary, it seems that society — even Chris- 
tian, as it calls itself — is growing every day more corrupt, 
that rottenness is eating out its very vitals, that shams and 
abominable wickedness more or less open, as shams are 
more or less prevalent, are the order of the day ; when, we 
say, such appears to be the true state of the case, what then 
becomes of this doctrine ? Either it is false ; either Christi- 
anity does not mean this, or else it is a failure. And if this 
view of Christianity be false, where then is there a basis for 
this tremendous doctrine of progress ? Certainly there is 
no basis for such a formula in the pages of history. Empires 
and nations are like individuals ; like them they are born, 
they grow, arrive at maturity, then begin to decline, and 
finally pass away out of existence. Every nation, like 
every individua^l, has its individuality, has its peculiar char- 
acteristic, has its destiny, its own idea to realize ; and, hav- 
ing done its work, it passes out into oblivion. Such cer- 
tainly is the teaching of history ; there is no sign of progress 
there. The truth is, this doctrine owes most of its power to 
the present theories of physical science. Originally it 
sprung out of a false view of Christianity ; but this origin 
is now very generally lost sight of; and having been 
adopted and applied to scientific investigation, and appar- 
ently being an excellent working formula, being exactly 
suited to the disclosures of science in the fields of geology, 
animal life, and the universe generally, it has been thor- 
oughly appropriated by science and become its general 
working formula. 



120 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

Analogies naturally fascinate the human mind, which 
always delights to find one key which apparently will un- 
lock all the treasures of knowledge. The human mind de- 
lights in supposing it has found the clue by which to un- 
ravel the mysteries of the Universe. Hence the fascination 
of this doctrine of progress, which has now been appropri- 
ated by all the departments of science, and has become, not 
only in these branches, but in all others, the general for- 
mula with which to explain the universe. It is applied to 
everything. No one questions its veracity; every one 
adopts it as an ultimate and absolute truth. It is this 
apparent adaptation of this formula for the unveiling and 
unravelment of all the mysteries of natural science that 
constitutes its power. And this in its turn being reinforced 
and apparently confirmed by a certain construction of 
Christianity, renders it, as a doctrine, invincible. The 
mind of the age is fascinated, seizes hold upon it, and 
makes it its universal " organon " of knowledge. 

So far as natural science is concerned, as an " organon " 
perhaps it is valuable, perhaps it is true ; perhaps Lyell is 
right, and Darwin, and Kant, and the whole system of 
evolutionism as applied to mind and matter. Perhaps 
nebulosity is the ancestor of matter, of the w^orld ; perhaps 
protoplasm is the origin and creator of man, and perhaps 
of angels, too ; perhaps this nebulosity and protoplasm, and 
something else we suppose, — which makes these two things 
develop and so become now what they were not before, — 
perhaps these three things, or only the two, are God. It 
looks as if this is what these nebulosity and protoplasm 
men would have us to conclude. 'Perhaps, we say, this 
doctrine of development or progress, or evolution, or what- 
ever you choose to call it, holds good in all these cases; 
still, this is no reason why it will do so in history, nor in 
Christianity. Why ? Because when we stiike man in his- 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 121 

tory we strike free agency, — we come into contact with a 
new element, with man a sinful creature, but at the same 
time a free agent. Progress, then, and development and 
evolution, may be the rule of God's action in nature, and 
even in man's physiological constitution. But when once the 
human being, a free agent, comes into existence, a new ele- 
ment, a new force is introduced within time and space, and 
human history will inevitably present many complex phe- 
nomena. God and the free agent both, are powers ; God 
for good, man being sinful and therefore dual in his consti- 
tution, will exhibit contradictions, — sometimes yielding to 
the good, he will move in one direction ; at other times re- 
sisting it and yielding himself to the evil, he will present 
another spectacle. The history of man, then, from an 
a priori point of view, even should progress be a true for- 
mula for the divine, will exhibit something more : whether 
a progress or a retrogression, who can foretell ? Christianity, 
so far as it is prophetic, would conclude this question ; and 
there is room here for difference of opinion. Some inter- 
pret it as being conclusive as to a final universal triumph, 
when all the world will become good and pure and holy, a 
millennium. on earth. But here the difficulty already stated 
presents itself. If this is so, if progress be the law of Chris- 
tianity, is it being realized ? If it is, then this interpreta- 
tion is correct ; but if not, if the world is not perceptibly 
growing better, then, if this interpretation be maintained as 
being the true one, Christianity is a failure and false. 
Others, again, have their doubts as to this being the correct 
viewof Christianity. Its offers and proffers they consider 
as being general, but as a system, neither prophetically nor 
doctrinally do they consider it as committed to the doctrine 
of the final regeneration of a whole, then existing world. 
To such, it appears that the doctrine of progress as imma- 
iient in the scheine-of Redemption, is encountered, by the fact 
U 



122 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

of the free agency of iiian. The resultant from these oppos- 
ing forces is considered to be the final aim of the Christian 
scheme. According to this view, the regeneration of a cer- 
tain final mass of humanity in a future age of the world is 
not the grand aim of Christianity, but it is rather the sal- 
vation of those who will be saved, — the poor in spirit, those 
who hunger and thirst after righteousness, God's elect. 
Christianity, according to this view, proposes to crystallize 
around its great Head and Founder all w^ho are susceptible 
of divine influences, the whole flock or sheep of Christ wher- 
ever scattered abroad over the face of the w^orld. Indirectly, 
it aflects the rest of the w^orld. As a law applicable to the 
conscience, necessarily, as in the case of the law under the 
Old Testament, it acts more or less as a restraint upon open 
and flagrant sin ; it acts as a kind of moral police, restrain- 
ing evil somewhat through the conscience, — through that 
general conscience, the voice of public opinion, and through 
the civil code which this necessitates. But this is what any 
standard of morality, under every other system of religion, 
does, and is a very different thing from the work of regen- 
eration, a changing of the heart of humanity. Perhaps 
under the Christian system open vice is more restrained 
than under any other ; but skepticism and infidelity can at 
any time undo all this, as it has done already in other 
times in history. Witness, in modern times, the case of the 
French revolution ; the action of the Commune ; witness 
what is now being enacted all around us as infidelity grad- 
ually advances. 

Christianity, it would seem, as a system, is a favor, a gift 
entrusted to a nation or people, w^ho are thereby put on 
trial as to how they will use it. As long as a people or 
nation continues to have faith in it and to profit by it, it is 
not removed ; but when a people or nation en masse loses 
all faith in it, then it is taken away, and given to others 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 123 

who are more fitted for it, and who will be glad to get it, 
and who, under its teachings, bring forth the fruits of 
righteousness. Thus it was in the case of the Jews, and 
thus, St Paul tells us, will it also happen to the Gentiles. 
" because of unbelief they were broken off, and thou stand- 
est by faith be not high-minded, but fear, for if God spared 
not the natural branches, take heed lest he spare not thee." 
The justice, even more, the necessity, of such a course is 
manifest. When a nation loses all faith in a system, neces- 
sarily it can do it no more good ; they do not want it them- 
selves, and practically reject it, consequently, it is time for 
it to be taken away, and given to another which will value 
it more. It is a serious matter when a people begin to lose 
faith in their religious system ; its end is near at hand : 
distrust comes first, then disbelief, and finally a rejection 
of the religious system. If, then, progress, as applied to 
the history of man, means that man as a race is becoming 
gradually better and purer and holier, and that the end will 
be an absolutely good world, a heaven upon earth, — if this 
be the meaning of the doctrine of progress, as applied to man, 
then it is not the doctrine of Christianity ; for, if it were, 
Christianity would be a failure, its resultant not being in 
accordance with the demands of such a doctrine. The law 
of progress is not then applicable, as an organon, to Chris- 
tianity for its construing, nor for the interpretation of the 
history of the human race. However useful and true it 
may be as applied in other departments of knowledge, it is 
a fallacy to apply it in this. 

The " drift of the age," then, is not properly a progress, 
nor a retrogression ; — whither it is, towards what, we know 
not ; therefore it is folly to call it by such names. Still, 
it is a movement, and, as such, can be detected, laid hold 
upon, and held firmly before the consciousness of the skilled 
observer, who can examine it, note down his observations. 



124 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

and communicate them to others. This observation being 
once made, naturally the mind proceeds to reflect upon it ; 
and since such a movement is a result, the philosophical 
mind begins at once to inquire into its causes ; this leads, 
when the movement is one occurring in times past, to an 
exact study of history, in order to detect if possible its 
causes ; but, when the movement observed is a contempora- 
neous one, or when the process is then taking place before 
the eyes of the observer, in such cases he looks not into the 
pages of history, but into the condition of contemporaneous 
society. There the inquirer is to detect the causes of the 
movement, and to see how it is being brought about. Here 
then we are to note the observations of a mind which is en- 
gaged in watching the workings of a present state of society ; 
which is trying to catch sight of the forces which are grad- 
ually being evolved and coming into play, which is reflect- 
ing thereupon, and so seeking an explanation of the move- 
ments which are then observed to be taking place in society. 
The .drift of the age is a fact ; it may be observed or it 
may not, it matters not, — it is inevitable. It is an effect; 
the resultant flowing from the exercise of the multiform 
forces ever acting and reacting within the complex sphere 
of human society ; it is as inevitable as is the resultant from 
active physical forces. What class of men is it that con- 
tributes most in producing this human resultant? The 
nature of the answer to this question depends upon the age 
in which it is put. The forces which act in society are nu- 
merous and inconstant. A force which at one time is all- 
powerful, is at another, and in another age, uninfluential. 
Thus at one time Aristotle reigns supreme over the human 
mind, at another Plato. During certain periods, meta- 
physics will rule over the thought of the age, and then 
again they will be in disrepute ; and, as is the case at the 
present time, natural science and the outward will be the 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 125 

sole influence. At one time society will be deeply suscep- 
tible to religious influences ; at other times skeptical, hard- 
ened, and irreligious, Difierent powers prevail at difierent 
times ; and during such periods those who are the repre- 
sentatives in the prevailing and popular school of thought 
are of course the leaders of society. They are, therefore, 
most influential in determining during that period the drift 
of the age. They are not, however, the sole agents in thus 
determining this current, for there are always at the same 
time other agencies at work, tending to check this prevail- 
ing tendency ; and so there being many unequal forces, act- 
ing upon the same thing in different directions, the move- 
ment consequent, is of the nature of a resultant. And in 
studying it as such, all these modifying causes should pass 
under the observation. 

An observation of the condition of the society of the 
present age, reveals to us, as its prevailing tendency, a 
movement towards an universal skepticism and infidelity. 
Concurrent with this movement, and essentially connected 
with it, as can easily be shown, is a movement in both 
Church and State towards centralization. This centraliza- 
tion movement, we say, is essentially connected with the 
former. Church and State are the constitutional forms un- 
der which society, as being religious and moral, places it- 
self. There are two outward forms which the social and 
religious spirit of human nature assumes in it^ outward 
manifestation. Necessarily, these forms will be effected by 
the modifications of the spirit which they embody. Infidel- 
ity is a spirit, the spirit of a spirit ; under its influence the 
religious spirit wanes, becomes lukewarm, and in the end 
perishes. The Church is the constitutional form which em- 
bodies this religious spirit. The spirit of the Church dying 
out, the Church is left a form without an indwelling spirit, 
a carcass. Still, as a form, it remains ; and since the en- 
11* 



126 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

ergy of human nature must be exerted on something, inas- 
much as there is no spirit to use and direct this energy, 
man exercises himself with the form. Religion becomes 
formality, and the Church, as an outward form, an organi- 
zation, becomes the sole subject of religious interest. Thus 
men busy themselves about ecclesiastical rather than spir- 
itual affairs, becoming churchmen rather than Christians ; 
and, moreover, the religious spirit having departed, the 
worldly spirit soon takes its place, and the Church finally 
becomes a mere worldly organization, perhaps but a politi- 
cal machine. The worldly spirit enters into the body of 
the Church, and uses its organization for selfish purposes ; 
ambition and selfishness become its ruling influences, and 
thus the Church, devoid of all true piety, a mere ecclesias- 
tical organization, soon becomes the prey of ambitious and 
worldly leaders, who gratify their pride, ambition, and 
worldly lusts by reducing the Church, of which they profess 
to be members, into a state of despotism. Thus it is that 
centralization in the Church is coincident with the advance 
of the infidel spirit ; it is directly incident to such a move- 
ment in the spirit of the age, — beginning in religious ex- 
ternalization and formality, it ends in centralization and 
despotism. And the same process is true with respect to 
the State. With the advance of infidelity, and the conse- 
quent increase of irreligion and vice, selfishness and corrup- 
tion become more and more prevalent. With the increase of 
vice, by means of corruption, bold, bad men are able to get 
into power and to maintain their position. This power they 
of course soon use for selfish purposes, and the end is that 
the State becomes a despotism. As long as society remains 
virtuous, its liberties are safe ; but as corruption increases, 
license increases and liberty decreases. The virtuous de- 
mand a strong hand to restrain the vicious, and therefore a 
strong government. The vicious seek the same end for 



SOCIEXr; AND ITS DUTY. 127 

selfish purp6ses, because, by thus getting power into their 
hands, they can plunder their fellow - citizens. So that 
there is a pressure from both parties towards the same ob- 
ject, namely, centralization, and its inevitable consequent, 
despotism. Infidelity means irreligion, which begets vice ; 
w^hich in its turn admits centralization, which finally re- 
sults in despotism. Virtue is liberty in the State ; vice is 
slavery and despotism. Hence, then, coincident wath the 
drift of the spirit of the age towards infidelity, concurrent 
with it, is another movement both in Church and State to- 
wards centralization and despotism. 

The drift of the age is then, we say, towards skepticism 
and infidelity. Skepticism is the more general state, infi- 
delity an increase, an intensifying of the same state in its 
relation to revelation. A state of mind is first excited, 
which next takes a definite turn and proceeds to deny. 
Skepticism is a negative state ; it neither affirms nor denies 
anything. Infidelity afiirms a negation, is therefore positive 
in denying. Thus skepticism generally will precede infi- 
delity. In the state of skepticism the mind becomes unset- 
tled ; former beliefs have been shaken, perhaps destroyed ; 
the mind has learned to distrust even its own judgments ; it 
doubts everything ; can believe nothing. And this state 
of mind, when directed towards revelation and its dogmas, 
becomes infidelity. It begins by doubting, and ends in dis- 
believing, and then the infidelity being positive is complete. 
The mind first passes through a general state, and then, if 
the disease becomes chronic, it settles itself down into a 
state of actual, positive disbelief. The drift of this age is 
as yet in the state of general skepticism ; it is advancing, 
but has not yet reached the state of positive infidelity. 
Who, now, is mainly accountable for the determination of 
this spiritual current ? What force is chiefly instrumental 
in the elimination of this spiritual resultant ? What class 



128 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

of men are mainly instrumental in producing this state of 
skepticism and in gradually intensifying it in the direction 
of infidelity ? Certainly not the pulpit ; it, alas ! melan- 
choly spectacle! is powerless against the advancing tide. 
The voice of the pulpit is weak ; it is scarcely heard amid 
the din of the conflicting elements in opposition. The pul- 
pit does not indeed seem to be aware of the danger which 
the cause it professes to advocate is in. If it were, perhaps 
it would lift up its voice and cry rather more earnestly and 
somewhat louder than it does ; but, alas ! the pulpit senti- 
nels are asleep at their posts. Some of them have even 
deserted, and, in order to be popular, to stand well with the 
thinkers of the day, have left their posts and gone over to 
the opposition. Thus we too often hear from the pulpit 
geological or ethnological, or other such scientific theories, 
used as a rule for Scriptural interpretation ; and although 
the Bible, the basis of the pulpit, is so explicit in its state- 
ments, we hear propounded theories made to correspond with 
the utterances of a Lyell, a Huxley, or a Darwin. Thus 
the pulpit, yielding to the philosophy of the day, adopts its 
theories, and leaves its ow^n truths. It baptizes science, and 
uses it, as a rule of interpretation for Scripture; and since 
the theories of science are ever changing, the pulpit, to keep 
up with the times, must change too. So the canons of in- 
terpretation are continually shifting. Thus the pulpit 
manages to sap its own basis, and to destroy in men's minds 
the little influence that it has left. True, the pulpit is not 
influential in directing this movement, nor is it in stem- 
ming it. It is afraid to examine its own basis, is too 
much inclined to apologize for the unscientific nature of the 
Bible, therefore it falters, stammers, is unable to meet the 
doubts of the inquirer ; thus indirectly it is instrumental in 
increasing the spirit of skepticism, already so prevalent. 
The status of the pulpit, then, at present, is this : It does 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 129 

not lead the spirit of the age, nor does it boldly withstand 
and by its energy essay to stem it. The drift of the age is 
toward the abyss,. toward the false and the evil. The pul- 
pit, we fear, fails to do its duty. It should at least boldly 
stem the current, though it cannot counteract and turn it. 
After all, it is not the province of the pulpit to lead the 
drift of the age. It has not done so since the first triumph 
of Christianity ; inevitably, it succumbs to the philosophy 
of the age, — witness in our day the pulpit of Germany suc- 
cumbing to the philosophy of Rationalism ; witness what is 
now taking place among ourselves. The preacher is but a 
man, and goes into the pulpit with the philosophy which 
he has imbibed in the schools and from the literature of the 
age. He will then inevitably interpret Scripture in accord- 
ance with the canons of the prevailing philosophy, which, 
as at present, happens to be that of physical science. 

Platonism was the first of the Western philosophies which 
succeeded in exercising an influence upon the Christian 
mind. Alexandria — the second Athens of philosophy — 
was the place where this influence was first felt. The Neo- 
Platonism of Ammonius Saccas, and his disciple Plotinus, 
a reaction against the all but hopeless skepticism of the then 
heathen world, was but an eclectic attempt to harmonize the 
Eastern and Western philosophies — Aristotle and Plato — 
with Orientalism. Neo-Platonism became the philosophy of 
Alexandria, which was the intellectual centre of the then 
world. Origen, the great founder of Christian philosophy, 
was entirely under the influence of this school of thought, 
and he, be it observed, was at the head of the theological 
school, or seminary, of Alexandria. Here, then, originated 
the Alexandrian school of Christian philosophy, a tertiwn 
quid, arising out of the application of the principles of 
Neo-Platonism to the interpretation of the doctrines of the 
Christian revelation. And such was the source out of 

I 



130 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

which the pulpit was to draw its inspiration. This was the 
method of Christian thought, the school of Christian theol- 
ogy for the age; necessarily, then, the pulpit must have 
been Neo-Platonic in its utterances. 

The application of the Aristotelian method to theology 
in the Middle Ages gave rise to what is known as the theol- 
ogy of the schools, or scholastic theology, of which Thomas 
Aquinas and Duns Scotus were representative men. Out 
of the schools proceeded the pulpit, what there was of it, 
and necessarily, therefore, the pulpit must have been scho- 
lastic : during the period in which the masters could, with 
all gravity, discuss the solemn question whether an angel 
could stand on the point of a needle, the pulpit was almost, 
if not altogether, dumb, being superseded by ceremonial- 
ism. 

Under the influence of the schiolastic theology, the pul- 
pit — we say, as a regular instrumentality in the Church — , 
died out. But although the clergy had lost all life, the 
body of the Church had not ; reaction commenced there. 
The mendicant friars came from the laity ; and a sagacious 
Pope, seeing at once where the life of the Church really 
was, at once adopted it, encouraged it, and commissioned 
these mendicant orders to be the pulpit of the Church. The 
friars did not speak to the people in the language of the 
schools ; their very existence was a protest against such a 
system of Christianity. The theme of their preaching was, 
" Repent ye, repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at 
hand." And very soon the pulpit thus conducted began 
again to become an influence in the Church. The friars 
went in the spirit and power of the second Elijah ; and this 
was their mission, to bring the age, to repentance towards 
God. Luther, and the Reformation, completed the work, 
and the age having been brought to repentance, was ready 
and willing to receive the gospel. The Reformation was 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 131 

another advent of Christ ; and those who were ready went 
in to the marriage before the door was shut. 

It is evident to any careful observer, that there are tran- 
sition periods in the history of the world. There are tran- 
sition periods in the realm of thought ; in social institutions, 
customs, and manners ; and in forms of government. Such 
is the period under which we are living. In the realm of 
thought, the one now under consideration, there is the de- 
cided evidence of such a transition ; the philosophy of the 
past, is passing away, another philosophy is taking its place. 

AVhat form of philosophy, it may justly be asked, has 
been the prevalent one up to the present time ? Not the 
Platonic: Plato, in his system, starts from the top and 
comes down. He begins with the absolute, the 6v, the un- 
conditioned, God ; his method is therefore intuition. Aris- 
totle begins on the earth and ascends upwards ; his method 
is therefore observation : he is the father of the scientific 
method. At present, Platonism, or rather Neo-Platonism, 
— the Alexandrian version of Platonism, with its method, — 
would seem to be the prevalent philosophy of Germany ; it 
arose soon after the Reformation, and is still, it would ap- 
pear, the thought of Germany. With us, however, it is 
otherwise. The Anglo-Saxon mind has a natural aflinity 
for the Aristotelian system ; the Teutonic for the Platonic. 
The present age, so far as concerns ourselves, has no com- 
plete system of philosophy. The turning point in the his- 
tory of philosophy, so far as concerns us, was in the triumph 
of the sensation theory of Locke. Locke's theory of the 
understanding is not a complete philosophy ; it is only the 
application of the Aristotelian method to one branch of 
knowledge; an account of the manner by which we acquire 
ideas, or get our knowledge. The success of this theory has, 
apparently, much simplified philosophy. Since, according 
to it, we can know nothing but through the senses, philos- 



132 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

opliy has therefore now become materialism. We are in a 
transition state ; passing out of the chaotic into the cosmic. 
The method of Aristotle, as remodelled and reorganized by 
Lord Bacon, is now, among us, exclusively employed, and 
a complete system of philosophy will no doubt be the final 
result. Aristotle never completed his system. God and 
the Universe were not by him satisfactorily formulated. 
A system of philosophy, to be complete, must comprehend 
and explain the universe. It must be a theosophy as well 
as a science ; God and the universe, mind and matter, must 
fall under its categories and be explained. So far, we have 
had a Platonic God, the ov, the absolute and unconditioned; 
we have had the God of Oriental dualism, the princij^les 
of good and evil, Ormuzd and Ahriman ; have had the Old 
Testament God, Jehovah ; the Christian triune God ; but 
the God of science, the theogony of Aristotelianism, yet 
remains to be formulated. A complete philosophy must 
give us a theogony, a cosmogony, an anthropogony, a phi- 
losophy of history, and an eschatology, or an account of 
things, on to eternity. Until this is accomj)lished the sys- 
tem will be incomplete. 

The scientific system, — the Aristotelian we may call it, — 
with its method of induction, is, then, the one that we are 
destined to evolve ; which has already laid fast hold upon 
our age, which has ousted Platonism, and which is finally to 
subdue all things unto itself. A struggle is, then, now about 
to begin ; and just as Neo-Platonism, in the person of an 
Origen, forced its way within the pale of Christianity and 
formulated Christian doctrine according to its principles, so 
now Aristotelianism, or the scientific system, is about to do. 
Already the Scripture cosmogony has fallen before it, and 
soon perhaps the other branches of revealed doctrine will 
do likewise. Science is but yet in her infancy ; she has not 
yet formulated God, nor the universe ; therefore, as yet, there 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 133 

is nothing positively enunciated with which revelation must 
be forced to accommodate itself. Science has not yet, like 
Platonism, its God, nor its universal substance : as a phi- 
losophy it will have to be more complete, before it can en- 
tirely supplant the system of revelation. 

The accommodation of one school of thought to the de- 
mands of another, is always possible, unless they be antag- 
onistic ; but w^henever done, it is, by a species of eclecticism, 
the result of which wdll be a tertium quid, neither the 
one system nor the other. Thus it w^as in the case of the 
Alexandrian theology ; the doctrinal system of Origen, its 
founder, who applied the principles of Neo-Platonism to 
revelation, resulted in a new system, a Neo-Platonic 
Christian philosophy, a theology peculiar to the schools of 
Alexandria, a system which speedily captivated the philo- 
sophic mind of the day, which spread rapidly over the 
whole of Eastern Christendom, and has appeared, rising 
again to the surface, in this age and among ourselves, as 
a reaction against the scientific tendency of the times. 

The application of a scientific form of thought, and of its 
method, to the interpretation of revelation, must, as it hap- 
pened in the former case, have an efifect in modifying our 
views of revealed doctrines. If the two systems are not an- 
tagonistic, which is yet to be seen, the result will be a tertium 
quid, a new system of theology ; but if the systems prove 
at variance, one or the other of them will go down. Neo- 
Platonism w^as susceptible of such an accommodation ; is 
this true of science ? Neo-Platonism essayed to explain 
revelation ; science, how^ever, from present appearances, 
presumes to deny it. The philosophy of science, is fast fill- 
ing out itself, as a system of thought ; already it has its 
theory for the creation of the world and of man, a cosmog- 
ony, and an anthropogony ; or rather its anthropogony is 
but one link in a chain of .evolution which w^ould explain 
12 



134 THE PULPIT — ITS PvELATION TO 

all animal existence. Evolutionism, as applied to life and 
matter, aims at accounting for the existence and continuance 
of the universe. Still, a theogony is wanted ; or perhaps 
under this system it may become unnecessary : should it be- 
come evident that there is no God, evolutionism must re- 
sult either in Pantheism or Atheism, in either of which cases 
an account of God, a theism, will become unnecessary; 
atheism requires none : Pantheism gives us God in giving 
the universe. If, then, the system appears to be complete 
without a God, as distinct from the universe, then it will be 
complete as a system of philosophy ; and if, in its positions, 
it be antagonistic to the Scriptures, as it certainly is, there 
can certainly be no possibility of any accommodation, but 
only a struggle for supremacy. 

Evidently, then, the pulpit should be extremely cautious 
in adopting the canons of this as yet unknown philosophy, 
and should be careful as yet in seeking to accommodate the 
teachings of revelation with its dicta ; for, so far, it is im- 
possible to say whether this philosophy will permit such an 
accommodation ; perhaps it may prove to be opposed to the 
teachings of revelation, irreconcilable with it. 

A transition period is one in which great caution should 
be exercised. We should be careful in not surrendering the 
old, prematurely, before the new is sufficiently established. 
In the breaking up of former things, there is always much 
confusion ; and thus it is, at the present day, in the realm 
of thought. As yet, no one system of philosophy has taken 
entire possession of the thought of the age. In Germany, 
Neo-Platonism is perhaps most prevalent ; in England and 
in this country the scientific system. Still, with us, all is 
not settled. In many minds there is already a reaction 
against science, a tendency towards Platonism. Boston, the 
Athens of America, the centre of American thought, exhibits 
both tendencies ; inclining, perhaps, towards Platonism rather 



society; and its duty. 135 

than towards Scientism. The best minds of Boston evi- 
dently lean toward the Neo-Platonic 6v, Calvinism, a 
theosophy drawn from the Old Testament, is fast losing its 
hold as a system of religious thought ; Neo-Platonism, and 
the system of science — Aristotle resuscitated and revised — 
will from henceforth contend for the mastery in securing the 
thought of the age ; Origen will again be exhumed and 
studied, as being one of the lights of the Christian w^orld, a 
protest against the dogmatism of science. 

Amid all these fluctuations, changings, and shiftings of 
conflicting currents, with a steady undertow toward skep- 
ticism and infidelity ; in the midst of an intellectual age 
feverish and restless, the pulpit finds itself still standing, a 
Divine institution, — what course is it to pursue in order to 
discharge its duty? how is it to maintain its integrity, 
against such a tremendous pressure? 

The pulpit, strictly as such, is confined within the limits 
of the method of personal address. Its aim is to influence 
men as individualities ; to bring each person into contact 
with the vital truths of Christianity. " Repentance tow^ard 
God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ," are, or ought to 
be, the watchwords of the pulpit. And while the waves of 
controversy and of intellectual agitation may surge up to 
the very church-doors, still all should be firm and calm 
within. " Strong in faith," the pulpit must hurl against the 
conscience of society the thunderbolt of the law, calling 
upon men to repent, because the kingdom of heaven is at 
hand ; and then again, in the calm, still accents of the 
Saviour of men, it must conduct to Him all who are weary 
and heavy-laden, that they may find rest for their souls. 
The pulpit, directly, has nothing to do with the drift of the 
age. It must stem it, and resist the importation of the 
philosophy of the schools within its sacred precincts ; but 
this is all it can do, directly, in this cause. The battle for 



136 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

the control of this tremendous spirit, must be fought outside 
of the pulpit. The clergy, it is true, can and ought, through 
their pens, to enter the arena and do battle for the cause of 
the truth ; but the pulpit had best stand true to its own 
peculiar province. 

In former ages, before the invention of printing, and even 
subsequently, in less intellectual ages than the present, when 
men read little and there were comparatively few books, the 
pulpit was much more influential in determining the drift 
of society than it is now ; and it attempted more. An ob- 
servation of the literature of the pulpit will show that the 
field of its operation is being slowly, but at the same time 
surely, restricted ; that it is being reduced gradually within 
its ow^n proper limits. In the crude states of society, the 
pulpit becomes used for all manner of purposes, and is as 
much a political engine — rather more so — than a religious 
one. In the Southern States, where the slaves have been 
but recently emancipated, w^here that portion of society is 
in a rude, almost barbarous condition, this general use of 
the pulpit for all purposes, especially as a political engine, 
is very observable. The pulpit is W'Orldly ; the preachers 
politicians and demagogues. As society advances in civili- 
zation, each profession finds its province more clearly de- 
fined for it ; and the pulpit would do well should it observe- 
this fact, and learn at once to confine itself within its own 
legitimate limits. 

Skepticism is a condition of mind. As descriptive of any 
particular age or period, it is the condition of the general 
mind ; as a fact, it is a result, brought about by forces, 
which must have been for some time operating. Every age 
of the world has its own peculiar psychical and mental con- 
dition. There is an age of religious earnestness, wherein 
the consciousness of God is the predominant psychical ele- 
ment. Then there is the reaction, the age of religious dead- 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 137 

ness, when God, as an element of the consciousness, ceases 
to be felt as an influence, and the religious consciousness 
becomes sapped, being overborne by the consciousness of 
self and of the world ; this is the age of rationalism, and 
so far as concerns the psychical element of worldliness. 
During such periods, men give themselves over to the ser- 
vice of their worldly instincts; materialism becomes the 
philosophy of the age ; material prosperity, in any or all of 
its forms, the passion, the very idol of the world. Strange 
as it may seem, the age of rationalism is at the same time 
the age of superstition. The religious instincts and con- 
sciousness, of the mass of humanity, cannot for any length 
of time be repressed. And when, through the agency of a 
period of destructive criticism, the previously existing form 
of religion has been swept away, men will make for them- 
selves a new religion ; and thus, if they can find nothing to 
believe in, they will deify ghosts, and will worship the 
manes of their ancestors. This was pretty much, so far as 
relates to the supernatural, the religion of Confucius. 
Finding nothing very definite concerning God in the records 
of the ancients, which he so assiduously studied, and who 
were the objects of his profoundest veneration, he seizes 
hold upon what he thus finds in himself, namely, his vener- 
ation for the ancients, which, with him, becomes a worship, 
and this he ofiers to his countrymen as a religion. Confu- 
cius is the representative of a skeptical age ; he lays hold 
upon the only reality he can find, which is in himself, and 
happens, in his case, to be a veneration for his ancestors and 
the ancients, — especially, it would seem, for the all-wise 
and powerful Yaou and Shun ; and this he makes a religion. 
Augustus Comte, another representative man in a skeptical 
age, also lays hold upon what he finds the only reality in 
his consciousness, the love of woman, and makes her the 
object of his worship. He calls it the worship of humanity ; 
12* 



138 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

but it is in fact nothing but that of woman. This principle 
of Comte's is by no means a new one. It underlies the 
present Roman Catholic system ; for what does the Romanist 
now worship ? Is it not the Virgin Mary ? Comte living 
in a Catholic country, surrounded by Roman influences, 
naturally adopts that system. He simply ignores the his- 
torical : takes the woman, and leaves the historical Virgin ; 
and perhaps even yet this religion of Comte's may prove a 
success ; for its Roman Catholic ancestor, the worship of 
the Virgin Mary, has been by no means a failure. It is the 
same principle that is involved in the worship of the heathen 
goddesses. The same principle which in the ancient world 
led to the apotheosis of woman in the heathen goddesses, in 
more modern ages has wrought the same result in the 
apotheosis of the Virgin Mary. This worship of the Virgin 
has not, as yet, degenerated into anything impure ; only be- 
cause of its historical association. Comte having severed 
this, his system may yet, in this or the next century, revive 
the impure mysteries of an Aphrodite, of an Astarte, or an 
Ashtaroth ; such worship being adapted to the age, under 
the designation of the worship of humanity. Comte is then 
by no means singular or original in this respect ; he has 
simply adopted as a religion that principle which was to be 
found existing all around him, which had its entire cultus 
under the old heathen regime, and its present cultus in the 
Roman Church in its whole system of Mariolatry. Huxley, 
too, acts in a similar manner ; he finds himself inspired with 
awe and reverence in the contemplation of nature ; there- 
fore the v/orship of nature becomes his religion, it is the 
only reality he can lay hold upon in his religious conscious- 
ness ; and this is really nothing but a return to the Saba- 
ism of Arabia and Chaldea, and to the sun-worship of the 
ancient Persians and of the Aztec races. The general mass 
cannot, however, rest satisfied with a religion of such abstrac- 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 139 

tion, and learn soon to betake themselves to tlie devices of 
superstition ; ghosts, devils, hobgoblins, soon will become 
the objects of their reverence, or rather fears, and thus of 
their worship. Contradictory as it may seem, yet it is ob- 
servable, that men who are absolutely materialistic in their 
views, are at the same time excessively superstitious. These 
are the men you will find leaning towards spiritualism ; who 
are fond of speculating upon the mysteries of mesmerism ; 
who attend spiritual-rapping meetings, and who think at 
the same time that they are only intensely scientific. * In 
reality, as is apparent to all others, they are but the slaves 
of superstition. That reaction w^hich takes place in the 
mass, in a skeptical age, has taken place too in them, in 
their own skeptical consciousness. 

There is, then, an age of religious earnestness, and an age 
of rationalism ; which, resulting in a general skepticism, 
carries in it materialism, and its inherent reaction, super- 
stition. 

The religious age is sapped and finally undermined by 
means of a destructive criticism, which must soon make its 
appearance in every religious age. There is a constructive, 
but there is also a destructive criticism ; the first is valu- 
able, the latter but an engine put in operation by the power 
of evil, acting through evil men. This sapping proceeds 
gradually, and in its effects, is for a long time not apparent ; 
but its work is sure, and the existing structure will in the 
end feel its powder, and must succumb to it, unless, as we 
believe of Christianity, it be of God, against which it is ex- 
pressly written, the gates of hell shall not prevail. Chris- 
tianity must stand ; but any of its existing forms may dis- 
appear : true, it must ever manifest itself under some form, 
that is as a Church, but not necessarily under any of the 
forms now existing. This destructive criticism, like all 
evils in this world, is made to work for good ; it has its use, 



140 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

though it be of the devil, in its intentions ; and no doubt he 
feels the mortification of the damned, in that all his mali- 
cious manoeuvres should thus be foiled and turned to good 
effect by the Almighty. Everything that has in it the ele- 
ment of the human, must soon find within itself the seeds of 
decay. The human brings with it the evil. Things, insti- 
tutions which Avere good originally, gradually become cor- 
rupt, and finally absolutely rotten. They must, therefore, 
be overturned, and the good freed again must take a new 
form. This destructive criticism in hurling its arrows at 
what is palpably evil, with the bad intention of destroying 
the good, fails in its intent. The structure falls ; but in its 
fall the good is set free, is eliminated, and enters into new 
combinations. Thus it was with the Christian Church, thus 
it is now, and thus it ever will be. Abuses cluster around 
everything that is good in this world. The Christian 
Church, at its beginning, was an excellent institution ; but 
what did it finally become ? — the most absolute, grinding, 
tyrannical despotism, that has ever been invented. Holding 
the consciences of men in its grasp, it had them absolutely 
in its power, and in its day has verily ruled the world with 
a rod of iron. All human institutions become corrupt — a 
very den for evil spirits to dwell in. All forms of civil 
government prove eventually a failure ; abuses gradually 
enter in, and like parasites twine their deadly arms around 
the institution, sending their rootlets within its every crev- 
ice and cranny, until exhausted, sapped of its life, the in- 
stitution becomes rotten, and deserves to be cut down. 
Therefore a destructive criticism, a ruthless radicalism, — 
which is such a criticism, become an actual, practical life, — 
has, we say, its uses. The rotten institution should be 
swept away, it only cumbers the ground ; and so the good 
is set free, and is able to construct a form for itself again ; 
again to pass through the same fatal process of dissolution. 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 141 

The popular literature of this age is destructive in its 
tendency. The utterances of a Carlyle find a response in 
almost every bosom. The age is dissatisfied ; a destructive 
criticism has all but done its work. Old beliefs are being 
broken up ; old creeds falling into pieces ; we know not 
what to believe ; we are drifting out upon the wild ocean 
of doubt. The spirit of the age, in its practical bearing, 
is therefore radical. Old things are passing away; all 
things must become new. These, therefore, are times of 
convulsions ; " men's hearts failing for fear and for looking 
after those things which are coming on the earth ; " signs 
there are " in the sun and in the moon and in the stars, and 
upon the earth distress of nations with perplexity, the sea 
and the waves roaring." For the " powers of heaven are 
being shaken." Perhaps the end is not yet ; or perhaps we 
have before us the prelude of the second coming of the Son 
of Man. And even though it be not His final advent, still 
He must come. The good must be set free ; the kingdom 
of heaven must in the end emerge victorious. Perhaps 
soon a new era is to begin, and we are but in the throes of 
its parturition. 

It is evident where the pulpit ought to plant its foot in 
such an age. Its utterances should be as from a trumpet, 
with no uncertain sound — precise, clear, and firm. Is this 
the case ? • 

The present age is one of great intellectual activity ; the 
brains and pens of the period are busy. The press is the 
great engine of our times : the drift of the age is determined 
through its instrumentality. The organization of the forces 
acting within and upon society, in the determination of this 
tendency, is becoming every day more thorough ; and every 
man, worker, thinker, and speaker, is learning to know his 
proper place. The pulpit seems, however, to be somewhat at a 
loss in finding its place, and therefore knows not exactly how 



142 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

to address itself to Christian society. If it be its province and 
duty to direct the drift of the age, then manifestly it is a fail- 
ure ; for the age drifts on, the pulpit to the contrary notwith- 
standing ; dragging the pulpit after it, but too often. If, 
however, it confine itself to the individual ; to bringing each 
individual soul to a consciousness of its sinfulness and guilt ; 
to a vital realization of its deplorable and lost condition : if, 
moreover, in the spirit of its founder, it lead such souls to 
Christ, and succeed in getting them to appropriate the life- 
giving truths of redemption ; — if, then, it can kindle in man's 
heart, through the consciousness of sin, that of redemption, 
and so bring about a reconciliation between man and God, 
so that man will learn to love his God and his Saviour ; — if 
the pulpit, we say, will but stand to this position, and aim 
at this end, it may yet recover itself, and prove a success, 
and a blessing to poor, miserable, fallen humanity. Add to 
this, of course, the edification of the regenerate, the pupil- 
age and training of those who have thus appropriated the 
truths of redemption, the edification of the Church, leading 
it forward in the footsteps of its founder, Christ ; take these 
two duties together, and you have the proper sphere, the 
province, the duty of the Christian pulpit enunciated. 

Against those who have been influenced thus, and are 
within the pale of such a fold, -the surges of skepticism and 
infidelity will ever beat in vain ; for they are founded upon 
a rock. What they believe, they know ; consciousness is 
their witness, a living witness which cannot be disbelieved. 
They are firm ; not even the surges of hell can wash them 
from their moorings. The drift of the ages roar by them, 
but all is still within ; " the peace of God, which passeth all 
understanding, keeps their hearts and minds in the knowledge 
and love of God and of His Son Jesus Christ, their Lord." 
" Upon this Eock," says the great Founder, " will I build 
my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 143 

it." The pulpit must plant its foot firmly here, upon this 
Rock, and not attempt to satisfy itching ears by falling in 
with the tone of any and every spirit of every and of any 
age. No principle can be more fatal to the legitimate influ- 
ence of the pulpit, than the one now becoming, but too rap- 
idly, fixed within the Christian Church, namely, that the 
pulpit must discuss " the questions of the day." The pulpit 
is not an institution for the day, but for eternity. The sub- 
jects with w^hich it should deal, are the same, yesterday, to- 
day, and forever. The popularizing and sensationalizing 
of the pulpit is a mortal error, and, if persisted in, wall in- 
evitably destroy it, or rather there will be no pulpit to 
destroy. 

It is a noticeable fact that the pulpit, as it is now very 
generally conducted, does not enlist the general interest of 
Christian society. Perhaps, as a rule, this has ever been the 
case ; perhaps it is only during periods of religious excite- 
ment, when the religious consciousness of the age has been 
profoundly stirred, that the pulpit has, for any length of time, 
been able to hold the interests of Christian society; but 
however this may be, it is evident now, that the pulpit is 
not the influence that it should be in every Christian com- 
munity. The churches are but scantily attended, though 
the occasions of assembling are but few ; men have learned 
very generally to absent themselves from public worship ; 
the mass of the congregation is women. Christian society 
is suffering under a spiritual torpor, and the pulpit seems 
to be unable to rouse the consciences and spiritual energies 
of the people from it. There is an action and a reaction 
observable; the pulpit lacks energy and vitality; the 
people are listless and uninterested. This condition of the 
people reacts upon the pulpit, making it lose faith in its 
efficacy, and so it becomes still more lukewarm ; which in 
its turn reacts again on the people, and increases the evil. 



H4 THE PULPIT — ITS RELATION TO 

The truths of redemption are not proclaimed, as they should 
be, with living energy, with clearness, and precision. The 
pulpit wants power and unction. It fails to arrest men's 
attention, to arouse them from the torpor of worldliness, 
and to awaken them to the reality of the spiritual. The 
pulpit needs the infusion of that vital, energizing force re- 
sulting from a living faith in the realities of eternity. A 
numbness is creeping over it, and its effects are already 
visible. The Christian community, borne along by the 
spirit of the age, is unsettled. Eternity and the spiritual, 
are being forgotten. Society is rapidly sinking into the 
abyss of worldliness. The consciousness of the world, is the 
predominant psychical condition ; and worldliness, in all its 
forms, is becoming the passion of the age. Material inter- 
ests are the only ones, and men are fast learning to expend 
their energies in the worship of mammon, rather than in 
the service of God. What little religious energy there is 
left, naturally, under such a condition of things, takes an 
outward, rather than an inward direction. Thus, ecclesias- 
tlcism, in all its pomp and fanfaronade, is fast becoming 
the order of the day. With the decay of spirituality, ec- 
clesiasticism increases. The Church, in its outward aspects, 
becomes the only subject of religious interest; and thus 
while men will build handsome cathedrals, they will cease 
to attend the preaching of the gospel. They wall glory in 
the worldly power and grandeur of the ecclesiastical organi- 
zation to which they belong, and will labor arduously and 
contend for ecclesiastical domination ; but all this while the 
spirit is dead. There is a form, but no spirit ; an ecclesias- 
tical carcass. The consequence is inevitable : no pulpit, an 
arrogant priesthood, religious fanfaronade, ecclesiastical 
despotism. Such, it seems, are the signs of the times ; such 
the vortex, into which the drift of the age, unless stemmed 
in time, must finally plunge the Christian community. 



SOCIETY; AND ITS DUTY. 145 

Such, then, is the present status of the pulpit, in its in- 
herent condition, in its relation to society, and to that 
mighty current which we have designated the " drift of the 
age." As a spiritual force, it does not act directly upon 
this movement ; nor is it mainly instrumental in determin- 
ing its direction. The drift of the present age being towards 
the abyss, the pulpit can do no more than stem it. If it 
stand fast itself and hold its own, it will do well. 

In the midst of a skeptical age ; amid national convul- 
sions, whirling vortices of corruption ; amid a philosophy 
of materialism, and Radicalism ; amid an adulterous and 
unbelieving generation, let the pulpit, trumpet-tongued, like 
a second John the Baptist, lift up its voice and cry, " Re- 
pent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand ; " let it, like 
another Elijah on the top of Carmel, boldly demand, " How 
long halt ye between two opinions ; if Jehovah be God, then 
follow Him ; but if Baal, then follow him." Are the 
clergy, like faithful sentinels standing at their posts, ready 
to give the alarm, and to fight, if needs be, even unto death, 
for the cause in which they are engaged ? Let the pulpits, 
which in an exigency like the present dare to become mute, 
answer this question. Christian ministers of the nineteenth 
century ; Christ expects every man to do his duty. 
13 k 



CHAPTER V. 

UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

TO any one who will observe, it cannot but appear that 
a new belief is fest esta.blishing itself in the mind of 
the age. Evidently, the doctrine of Universalism is making 
steady progress, towards a much more general reception, 
than it has hitherto met with, within the pale of Christen- 
dom. Universalism, a*s a system of belief, means this : that 
man, the whole human race, one and all, must and will 
ultimately be virtuous and happy. It demands that the 
human race should in the end be recovered, and restored 
finally to a state of unalloyed happiness. It grants that 
happiness is impossible without virtue ; it therefore holds 
to a restoration to virtue, and through it to the final consum- 
mation of an universal happiness. According, then, to this 
system, life, and all history, is but a drama, whose denoue- 
ment will entitle it to the name of "All 's well that ends well." 
The denouement may be a long time delayed ; it is granted 
that men pass out of this world unrepentant, vicious, and 
therefore themselves necessarily unhappy, and a source of 
unhappiness to others ; but it is supposed that this state will 
not always continue, that God's merciful dealings will fol- 
low the vicious into another world, and that although the 
time of repentance may be more or less delayed, yet the sin- 
ner will in the end yield to the continued solicitations of a 
merciful God, and repent ; that eternity is sufficient to effect 
such a change in the case of the most adamantine sinner ; 

146 



UNIVEESALISM AND CALVINISM. 147 

and so all will finally be brought to repentance, to virtue, 
and so to happiness. Thus, according to this theory, the 
whole world must, and finally, will be saved ; there will be 
no more sin; sorrow and crying for the whole mundane 
universe will be done away with ; all things will be recapitu- 
lated, and renewed. Logically, this scheme does not stop 
with man, it includes the whole moral and intelligent uni- 
verse. In its final statement, it demands the destruction, 
the annihilation, the removal of all evil, out of God's moral 
universe. 

This doctrine of a final restoration is by no means new ; 
under some form or other it appears to have ever existed, 
as an item in the religious creed of mankind. The doctrine 
of a transmigration of souls, or, as the Greeks have desig- 
nated it, metempsychosis, implies such a final restoration. 
According to that doctrine, the souls of those who had not 
on this earth, in their lifetime, prepared themselves for a 
higher state of existence, were doomed, in punishment of 
their misdeeds, and as a means of purification, to return to 
mundane existence, and to pass successively through the 
various forms of animal life, returning finally to human 
existence again, and then again undergoing a state of pro- 
bation. Thus, an endless series of transmigrations was con- 
nected, until the soul having suffered its dues, and having 
been purified, was at length fitted for a higher sphere of 
existence. Connected with this doctrine, and out of it, 
arose that of the pre-existence of the soul. Some philoso- 
phers actually assert, that they remember having existed 
previously to their then life ; Pythagoras asserts, that he 
remembers having assisted the Greeks at the siege of Troy, 
and being slain by Menelaus, king of Sparta. Others 
thought, that sometimes, there flashed upon the conscious- 
ness the intimation of a previous state of existence ; and it 
must be confessed that there is something in what these 



148 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

philosophers say to which our own consciousness can bear 
witness to. Most of us have felt at times that same strange 
feeling to which these writers allude — a dim, confused, seem- 
ing recollection, of having seen the same place, or of having 
heard the same thing before; and yet when we come to 
reflect upon the circumstances of the case, we find that it 
could not have been ; that we have never been at that place^ 
nor heard that thing or sound, or those words before. We 
cannot tell how it is, but we find ourselves trying to under- 
stand this strange impression, and yet withal, the image 
will not cease to have its faintness, and as we seek to grasp 
it, phantom-like it sadly fades away and vanishes. This 
evidently is that feeling to which these writers refer, as in- 
dicative of a previous state of existence. And thus, in these 
two views, of a pre-existence, and of a transmigration of the 
soul, is clearly contained, the doctrine of its immortality. 
And it was indeed from these premises that Pythagoras 
(the first of the philosophers to introduce into Greek Phi- 
losophy, the doctrine of the transmigration of the soul) — it 
was from these premises that he argued for the doctrine of 
the immortality of the soul. The religions of the East, 
Brahminism and Buddhism, both teach the doctrine of 
transmigration of souls, in the way of penance and purifi- 
cation ; and therefore, by implication, teach a final restora- 
tion. The Egyptians, adopting this doctrine from the Hin- 
doos, taught, " that the soul had to continue three thousand 
years after death, in the bodies of animals, before it could 
reach the habitations of the blessed." From the Egyptians, 
the Greeks received the doctrine ; Pythagoras, as we have 
said, adopted it, in his philosophical system. Plato teaches 
the same doctrine, being taught it by Pythagoras ; " he ex- 
tends the period for the entire return of souls into the God- 
head to ten thousand years, during which time they have 
to abide in the bodies of animals, and of men." The Neo- 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 149 

Platonists adopt the doctrine, and at Alexandria it is enun- 
ciated by Plotinus, their chief. Origen, contemporaneous 
with Plotinus, and a fellow-disciple with him of Ammonius 
Saccas, the reputed founder of the Neo-Platonic system, 
necessarily was imbued with this doctrine. Becoming a 
Christian, in and with him it passed over from the heathen 
philosophies, and became an article in Christian theology. 
Here, then, we are at the point where the doctrine of a final 
restoration, so far as it is Christian, begins ; having passed 
over from heathenism and effected a lodgment in the Chris- 
tian consciousness. It begun in, and with, Origen, who, 
before he became a Christian, was a Neo-Platonist. On being 
converted, he carried his philosophical views in Christianity 
with him ; and thus in his writings, we find the first intima- 
tions in Christian literature of the doctrine of a final restora- 
tion. It is essentially connected with the heathen doctrine 
of a transmigration of souls, and is therefore originally a 
heathen, and not a Christian dogma. It must be confessed, 
however, that it does appear to find a point of junction with 
the Christian system, in certain expressions which occur in 
the Epistles of St. Paul, as in 1 Corinthians xv. 24, 28, and 
Ephesians i. 10, which passages no doubt enabled Origen to 
bring in his former system, and to justify it, as being Scrip- 
tural. These passages, together with 1 Peter iii. 19, 20, 
which was held to teach a descent of Christ to Hades, which 
implied, as they thought, a purgatorial state ; — these pas- 
sages taken together, form a basis, upon which, as Scriptural, 
they undertook to rest the doctrine of a future state of pur- 
gation and of a final restoration. Origen and Clement, the 
two great Church Fathers of Alexandria, the founders of 
modern Theology, writes Neander, " both taught explicitly 
a progressive development and course of purification after 
death, supposing that they found an allusion to this in the 

descent of Christ to Hades." Thus Clement teaches that 
1?. * 



150 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

" the beneficent power of our Saviour is not confined barely 
to the present life, but operates at all times and every- 
where." And then going further and completing their sys- 
tem, these Alexandrians conclude " that the ultimate end 
of the whole scheme of salvation is a universal Eedemption, 
consisting in the annihilation of all moral evil, and in an 
universal restoration to that original unity of the divine life 
out of which all had proceeded (the general anoxatdataoi^).'^ 
Here, then, we are at the source of Universalism, as exist- 
ing within the pale of Christianity. It comes over from 
heathenism as the doctrine of transmigration of souls ; it 
enters the Church at Alexandria in the third century, intro- 
duced by Origen and Clement, who, as Neo-Platonists, had 
imbibed the doctrine ; and they manage to introduce it and 
to obtain Scriptural sanction for it from certain expressions 
in St. Paul's Epistles ; from the descent of Christ into Hades, 
and, perhaps, from certain other vague expressions, as when 
Christ says that a certain sin — blasphemy against the Holy 
Ghost — " will not be forgiven neither in this life, nor in 
the next." Matt. xii. 31, 32. A text which the Romanists 
use in proof of their doctrine of purgatory. Here, then, 
moreover, we are at the source of the Roman Catholic doc- 
trine of purgatory. The doctrine of a purgatorial fire is 
evidently a partial appropriation of that of Metempsychosis, 
which entered the Christian consciousness in the instance 
of the Alexandrian school of Theology, and passed from 
thence, subsequently, into the consciousness of Western 
Christendom. It adopts the principle of the Origenistic 
theology without logically carrying it out to its finality. It 
restricts the purifying process in another world, or after 
death, to a certain class, — to the baptized; or still closer, to 
those who, after baptism, have not fallen into any mortal 
sin. Practically it amounted to this : that every one bap- 
tized, with the exception of perhaps a few saints, in order 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 151 

to being purified from the dross of still adhering sinful- 
ness, that being holy they might see God ; to this end all 
must needs pass through the purifying fires of purgatory. 
Purgatory is then a discipline, whereby God prepares souls 
imperfectly sanctified, after death, for the holiness necessary 
for heaven. This doctrine, from its uncertain nature, is liable 
to be much expanded ; and thus it happened, until finally it 
was thought that any one, no matter how wicked his life had 
been, if he but died within the pale of the orthodox Church, 
a baptized member, that having passed through purgatorial 
fires, he might finally reach heaven. Here, then, came in 
the custom of offering prayers and Masses for the dead ; 
and finally the practice of granting indulgences, by means 
of which a punishment due in purgatory was held to be 
more or less remitted. To be logical, this doctrine ought to 
be extended, so as to cover the whole race ; and moreover, 
in its finality, it must maintain the fact of a final and uni- 
versal restoration. And this is but what Universalism 
does ; it falls back upon the Alexandrian position, regard- 
ing the doctrine of purgatory, or a future purifying disci- 
pline, as applicable to the whole race, and making it finally 
to result in an universal restoration. 

The doctrine of purgatory is then but another version of 
the old heathen doctrine of the transmigration of souls, 
which is the source from which Universalism also issues. 
Universalism is not, then, a new form of belief; it is but the 
revival of the eschatology of an Origen, and of a Clement 
of Alexandria. Universalism, as it now presents itself, 
boldly maintains two positions. It rejects the belief in eter- 
nal punishment, and believes in a final universal restoration ; 
in an aTtoxa/tdataat^^ TtdvtcoVy when all moral evil shall be en- 
tirely banished from the universe, the whole intelligent 
creation being restored to the unity of a life in God. The 
foundation of this system lies in two propositions : first, that 



152 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

God is all-benevolent ; in the words of Scripture, that " He 
is love/' that " He will have all men to be saved and to 
come unto the knowledge of the truth," that He is " not 
willing that any should perish, but that all should come to 
repentance : " secondly, that He is all-powerful, and auto- 
cratic ; " that He will have mercy on whom He will have 
mercy, and whom He will He hardeneth ; " that like the 
potter. He hath power over the clay " of human nature, of 
the same lump to make one vessel unto honor and another 
to dishonor." Under this system it is held, that inasmuch 
as God is all goodness, benevolence, and love ; since, more- 
over, it is expressly said that " He willeth not the death of 
a sinner, but that he should repent and live," that " He 
would have all men to be saved," — since such is God's atti- 
tude and desire and will in relation to man's salvation, and 
since, on the other hand. He can mould human nature ac- 
cording to His will ; since He would have all men to be 
saved, and since He can save them, it follows as inevitable, 
that all men will finally be saved. Since, however, it is 
evident that all men are not brought to repentance and sal- 
vation in this life, it must be that they will be brought to it 
hereafter, in another sphere of existence. For, according 
to this view, it is impossible to believe that God should fail 
to accomplish what He would have done. Faith in the 
goodness of God makes us disinclined to believe in the eter- 
nal punishment of the sinner ; makes us inclined to look 
upon punishment rather in the light of a corrective discipline 
than as retribution ; makes us inclined to regard the future 
state of the wicked as a discipline, through which God is 
still leading them to repentance, and so on to a final restora- 
tion. But all this while, be it noted, we are taking it for 
granted, that there is the possibility of bringing about such 
a result. We have concluded, that by some means or other, 
every man can be brought to repentance. Now, if this is to 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 153 

be effected, it must be either by means of God's invincible 
potency being brought to bear directly upon the free will 
of man, or it must be by man's freely yielding himself to 
the overtures of mercy. It is supposed, then, either that 
God, at some future time, in the other world, will, by means 
of His omnipotence, reduce into subjection the refractory 
will of His creatures ; or else, that man will at some time 
voluntarily yield himself, through repentance and faith, to 
be a servant to God. Some change in the sinner must cer- 
tainly take place. It can be brought about only in one of 
these two ways. Universalism, to be at all practicable, re- 
quires the first ; it requires that God should, at some time, 
make the evil good, which, as shall be seen, involves a con- 
tradiction ; for that is unmaking, annihilating the creature. 
To make a bad man a good man by force, that is, through 
the instrumentality of divine power, is to unmake him ; is 
to make, in reality, another and a different man. It can 
not be that the bad man is to repent, of himself, at some 
future time in eternity, for we all know that the longer it is 
postponed the harder it is to repent ; and if a man does not 
repent in this life, it is not any more likely that he will 
hereafter. The longer evil lasts, the more confirmed it be- 
comes, the more intense it is, and the more hardened the 
sinner. Universalism, in requiring the future repentance 
of the sinner, evidently then demands an interference of the 
divine potency, which must act immediately upon the will 
of the free agent in order to bring about the desired result. 
It contradicts, then, the fact of free will, and the creature's 
free agency. 

Universalism is the natural result of Calvinism : adopt- 
ing the grand Monoistic principle of Calvinism, that God 
can do all things in all, even within the sphere of free 
agency, it argues that, since " He would have all men to be 
saved," He will certainly save all ; for if He did not, it 



154 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

must be because He cannot ; — but He can ; for who can 
resist His will ? hath not the potter power over the clay ? 
Since, therefore, He would, and at the same time He can, 
then certainly He will finally save all men, and thus accom- 
plish His will. 

The grand central principle of Calvinism is the Monois- 
tic — that God is the only, the central power of the universe 
in spirit and in matter. It considers God as working in 
and through all things. All creation is then but the mani- 
festation of the will of God ; the whole universe is but God 
under so many different conditions and manifestations. 
Thus in nature, according to this principle, when the wind 
blows, we may justly say God blows ; for what is the wind 
but God acting, emanating force under the category of what 
we call wind. It is God flashing in the lightning, and sound- 
ing in the thunder. Now, so far as concerns nature, this to 
a certain extent, in a certain sense, is all true. Nature is 
but the manifestation of the living God, and so far Monoism 
is legitimate ; and although it may appear to be Pantheism, 
still it is true. But can this Monoistic principle be carried 
legitimately into the realm of free agency ? This Calvinism 
and Universalism undertake to do ; thus in the sphere of free 
will, under such a system, when I will, it is God willing, — 
God willing or thinking or feeling under the category of hu- 
manity ; thus, though I am conscious of personality, it is but 
a delusion — I am but God, who is manifesting himself as man, 
under the category of humanity. This is what ? Evidently 
Pantheism ; but it is also the logical result of the Monoistic 
principle, when applied within the realm of free agency. 
Man, then, ceases to be an individual existence, a person re- 
sponsible to God. If this be so, if man's will be to God's 
as wind or the rain is, and if God be all-benevolent, and 
is, as the Scriptures say, willing, nay, more, desirous, " He 
will have all men to be saved," then why should not all 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 155 

men be eventually saved ? There is no avoiding this diffi- 
culty. If this be so, if God have this ability to convert all 
men, then Universalism is evidently true ; man, the whole 
human race, must and will, in the end, be restored to virtue 
and happiness. Universalism depends, then, for its truth, 
upon the central principle of Calvinism, a principle which 
denies free will, contradicts consciousness, and ends in Pan- 
theism : this principle we designate Monoism. 

Calvinism adopts as its fundamental formula this doc- 
trine, that God creates all things for Himself, for His own 
glory. This it regards as an axiomatic proposition. What 
then does this mean ? for there are several w^ays of under- 
standing it ; and Calvinism and Universalism do in fact 
interpret it differently. There are two ways, then, in which 
this formula may be interpreted : first, that God creates in 
order to have an object, or objects, through and upon which to 
exercise his various attributes and potencies ; and secondly, 
that he creates, at least all animate nature, to the end that 
in participating in conscious life it may enjoy happiness — 
that He creates in order to extend the circle of life and of 
happiness. In Himself he is life and happiness, infinitely 
and absolutely so. In His goodness, He would have others 
to participate in this His beatitude ; so He creates, in order 
that there may be others. His creatures, to enjoy it. It is 
His happiness to confer happiness ; and His highest happi- 
ness, in this direction, consists in the contemplation of the 
happiness of His creatures. This, then, is the end of ITis 
creation ; and when we say God creates for Himself, to His 
own glory, we mean that He creates in order that, through 
the happiness of His creatures. He may be happy. To 
confer happiness is certainly the highest end we can con- 
ceive of ; and to be so good as to create to this end, is com- 
prehensible to us, as indicating an exceedingly noble dispo- 
sition. God, then, according to this view, creates in order 



156 UNI VERS ALISM AND CALVINISM. 

to make happy ; and His highest blessedness, His most tran- 
scendent glory, in relation to the created universe, consists 
in the beatific contemplation of the happiness of the crea- 
tures He has made. It is then to the glory of God th4a,t the 
creation be universally happy; this is the only way in 
which His glory in this connection can be realized. The 
contemplation of the misery of His creatures must neces- 
sarily interfere with the quietude of His blessedness ; and 
if it be to His glory that all His creatures should be happy, 
under such conditions His glory would be marred ; and 
since this cannot be the case, since according to the Mono- 
ism of Calvinism the will of God must in all cases be real- 
ized ; since, therefore, it is impossible to suppose that God 
should thus mar His own glory and allow anything to 
interfere with His blessedness, it must be that finally this 
obstacle will be removed. It must be that mankind will all 
finally be restored to virtue and happiness ; and since evi- 
dently this does not happen in this life, it will in another ; 
and so, on the same principles, extending the horizon, moral 
evil will finally be banished from the universe, and all will 
be happiness and virtue. Such is the position which Uni- 
versalism occupies. Starting from a proposition which it 
regards as axiomatic, that God's highest blessedness, so far 
as concerns creation, consists in the contemplation of the 
happiness of the creature, a happiness He himself has made 
possible and has actually conferred, and then adopting the 
Calvinistic principle of Monoism, that He can in the case 
of free agents bring about such a state of things, it natu- 
rally concludes that He will efifect it — such a final, happy 
consummation being but a matter of time, the process of 
conversion being continued in another world, when it has 
failed in this. 

The second, or Calvinistic view, of what is the glory of 
God, is liable to two constructions. First, it may be held 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 157 

that God creates for His own pleasure ; that creation is, as 
it were, a pleasurable exercise of the powers residing in 
Him. Thus, just as with the man of muscular constitution, 
it is a pleasure to take exercise, or with the thinker to de- 
velop his thought, or with the artist to throw his inspira- 
tion upon canvas, or in marble, or into the tones of music or 
poetry, so with God it is a pleasure to create and throw into 
the sphere of real existence the thoughts, feelings, and po- 
tencies of which He himself is the centre. Thus, it can be 
regarded as natural, for God to create, as it is for man to do 
anything that his powers stimulate him to. To exercise 
and realize one's innate powers, is always a source of happi- 
ness ; and when the production, the result, of such exercise 
is satisfactory, when it comes up to the demands of the im- 
pulse within, when the inspiration feels itself completely 
expressed, when the spirit feels itself thoroughly mani- 
fested, — in the satisfaction that then ensues and which such 
a result brings with it, there is always a beatitude, the hap- 
piness of a realized impulse, of fruition. It is this feeling 
that is expressed, when, in the account of the world's crea- 
tion, after each separate stage in the process, it is said, "And 
God saw that it was good ; " and then, finally, when the 
whole work was completed, and had proved a success, the 
satisfaction which then naturally results to the Creator is 
thus expressed, — " And God saw everything that He had 
made, and behold it was very good." " And He rested on 
the seventh day from all the work which He had made, and 
He blessed the seventh day and sanctified it, because that 
in it He had rested from all His work which God created 
and made." The architect who has completed the task of 
rearing some grand structure ; when the end comes ; when 
the scaffolding falls, and at last the noble structure stands 
out complete and grand in its outlines ; when the architect, 
with beating heart, gazes at last upon the realization of his 
14 



158 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

cherished idea, then he too, God-like, experiences the beati- 
tude of a creator,, and can feel the meaning of the "it was 
good," and what it is to rest after creation's work. So with 
the sculptor and the painter, the musician, the writer, and 
all who know what it is to work and to create. Let the 
creation but satisfy the demands of the creator's inspiration, 
and inevitably this satisfaction will ensue. The work must, 
however, be a success, otherwise it is a source of pain rather 
than of pleasure. There is no human happiness so perfect 
and so intense as that ensuing upon the satisfactory com- 
pletion of some grand undertaking. The nobler the under- 
taking, the higher the order of the pleasure. The husband- 
man has pleasure in watching the success of his toil, in 
finally gathering in an abundant harvest, the work of his 
own hands. The writer who has completed his work, and 
feels that he has expressed himself just as he desired, and 
that he has successfully completed his work ; as he writes 
the last word, and then throws down his pen, his work 
done, he too feels the beatitude of the creator, and can rest, 
blessing the day which marks his work as being successfully 
done. Every man, in his own department, has this means 
of happiness at his command. It pervades every depart- 
ment of existence, and no doubt the apt, and the bee, and 
all the provident of God's creatures, when they have com- 
pleted laying up their stores for the winter, experience this 
pleasurable sensation to some extent. It is a law of crea- 
tion, it is the blessing of labor ; to get it we must work, and 
the harder the work, the more arduous the undertaking, 
the more intense and enduring the happiness of success. 
Evidently, the same law or principle applies to God, other- 
wise it would not have been written of Him, that when Tie 
beheld His creation, " He saw that it was good ; " nor, 
furthermore, that at the end of creation, on the seventh 
day, " He rested." Every worker is authorized to enjoy 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 159 

his seventh day : he should not return to labor at once, but 
adopt the law of the universe, the example of God himself; 
let him rest, and enjoy for the time the happiness of his 
success. None but laborers can experience this pleasure, 
and none but such are in reality God-like. 

We can then, in the first place, consider God as essen- 
tially a worker ; and, as such, He is naturally a creator, 
creating not because of this pleasure ; this comes with it, 
but is not the end. Just so with us ; it is not the pleasure 
of success that we work for — that comes with it, and is its 
blessing ; we work naturally, every man according to his 
gifts, that is, if we are true to ourselves, and not worthless 
sluggards. It is as natural to work as to breathe, or to use 
the muscles ; it is essential to our nature ; in fact, to live is 
to work ; it is but the expression and manifestation, the 
realization of life, the living powers. And in God it is es- 
sential to Him to work : " My Father w^orketh hitherto, and 
I work," says Christ. With work follows happiness ; and 
the more difficult the undertaking, then the higher and more 
intense the happiness. To create a free agent ; to reproduce 
Himself, and yet what is not Himself, being finite ; to make 
man, a being made in the image and likeness of God, is, as 
a work, the highest that can be imagined. Thus God seems 
to have derived peculiar pleasure in contemplating man, 
the last and highest work of His hands. And doubtless the 
whole inanimate creation failed to yield so much satisfac- 
tion to the Divine Being as did Adam and Eve, as they, in 
all the glory of unfallen humanity, happily walked in the 
garden of Eden. 

In the creation of a race of free agents, God had planned 
for Himself a much more arduous work for the future than 
any which had preceded it. To create a free agent, one 
capable of resisting the Divine will and potency, is, as a 
work, far easier than to control such a being after he is 



160 UNI VERBALISM AND CALVINISM. 

created. Indeed, a free agent, a creature endowed with free 
will, in the image and likeness of God — in this respect a 
God himself, — such a creature is, from the very nature of the 
case, independent and uncontrollable. He can, if he pleases, 
resist the Creator, reject His influences when applied to him 
within or from without. To direct and control such a crea- 
ture, we say, must be a w^ork much more difficult than the 
creation of such a being. Indeed, to us, it would appear to 
be a natural impossibility. And yet God must have laid 
out this work for Himself; and it is very evident that ever 
since man's creation He has been engaged in carrying out 
some plan relating to this matter. The whole system of Re- 
demption, in its conception and in its history, bears witness 
to this. But what is the work that God has thus mapped 
out for Himself ? What is it that He now is trying to do ? 
if we may so express it. Is He trying to do what Univer- 
salism believes, to bring about an universal restoration? 
Or is He, as Calvinism would have it, not trying to do this, 
but only effectually to save some few whom He has elected 
and predestinated to salvation ? Is He only engaged in 
saving some, or is He trying to save all ? Or is He, while 
occupied in saving only some, engaged, on the other hand, 
as Supralapsarianism would have it, in fitting those whom 
He has created as objects upon which to exercise His wrath, 
for destruction ? 

Universalism and Supralapsarian Calvinism both carry 
the Monoistic principle entirely through ; both hold that 
God does in the end accomplish all that He would. Cal- 
vinism holds that He wills, on the one hand, the salvation 
only of the elect ; while, on the other. He wills the damna- 
tion of the reprobate, who are — according to Supralapsa- 
rianism, — the only consistent Calvinism — created for this 
purpose. Thus, evidently, God's entire will and purpose 
are accomplished, and His autocracy is vindicated. Some 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 161 

He creates to be the objects upon which to exercise His 
wrath, others upon whom He is to exercise His goodness 
and mercy. There are originally vessels, some of wrath ; 
and vessels, others made to honor. According to this view, 
the satisfaction which followed the creation ought to have 
been delayed until Adam fell; then, it w^ould appear, 
would have been the proper time to have written it down 
that " God saw everything that He had made, and behold 
it was good." For it was not until then that the material 
upon which God was to exercise His wrath was created. 
Supralapsarian Calvinism holds that God has created every- 
thing for His own glory, which means, as has been shown, 
that God, in order to exercise Himself, and to have objects 
upon which He can exercise all the properties of His nature, 
by means of which, moreover. He can manifest and display 
these. His tremendous potencies to others beside Himself, — 
has created the universe. Up to the sphere of conscious 
intelligence, God may be considered as creating only for 
the pleasure of it ; for that pleasure which results from the 
successful exercise of indwelling creative potencies. In cre- 
ating conscious intelligences, He has made those w^ho can 
be the intelligent witnesses of His majesty. But in order 
to the exhibition of all the properties residiug in the Divine 
Being, the appropriate objects must be prepared, objects 
which afford a sphere for the exercise of such divine prop- 
erties. Thus, in the mass of unfalien angels, as an appro- 
priate object, He manifests His holiness, affirmatively, in 
them, and, negatively, to them in the exercise of His wTath 
upon the fallen mass of angelic existence. The fallen 
angels, in the upper, correspond to the reprobate in this 
lower sphere. In this lower sphere, God manifests espe- 
cially two of His attributes, namely. His mercy and His 
wrath. In electing some of a fallen race and bringing 
them to repentance, faith, and final salvation. He exercises 
14* L 



162 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

and manifests His mercy ; in leaving others in their fallen 
condition, to continue in sin, He has prepared for Himself 
the material upon which He can exercise and manifest His 
wrath. And this is considered to be the end of man's crea- 
tion, that God might thus exercise and manifest His mercy 
and His wrath to the intelligent creation. 

God, then, according to this system, creates man ; pur- 
posely He makes him a peccable creature, to the end that 
he may fall — Sublapsarianism says, permits him to fall; 
but this is illogical, it departs from the principle of Mono- 
ism. Supralapsarianism, more logical, holds, not permits, 
but causes man to fall ; and that, in order to have the ma- 
terial upon which to manifest His mercy and His wrath. 
It is the glory of God, by this system, to manifest to an as- 
tonished and terrified intelligent universe, His tremendous 
attributes ; to manifest certain of these — His mercy and 
His wrath — He prepares the material in the fallen mass 
of humanity. Here is the medium through which this 
manifestation is to be made. One form, the milder one of 
Calvinism, would escape the difficulty of this position by 
adhering to the doctrine of a permitted fall. But inasmuch 
as in all other res]3ects it holds fast to the principle of 
Monoism, and also to this definition of the glory of God ; 
logically enunciated, it must finally result in the same con- 
clusion. 

Under Calvinism, starting with its definition of the glory 
of God, which is the end of creation ; this end is realized. 
The Monoistic principle is therefore satisfied ; God finally 
accomplishes His final purpose, that work which He has 
allotted to Himself. In the salvation of the elect He fully 
manifests the riches of His grace, in the damnation of the 
reprobate, He as fully exhibits the terrors of His wrath ; 
thus, then. He is glorified, and in the final success of His 
work, in the love that He will attract, and in the terror that 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 163 

He will strike, He will be glorified of the universe, and 
therefore satisfied in Himself. According to this view, what 
God desires is the admiration, the praise, homage and fear 
of His creatures, and the whole system of the universe is 
planned to this end. Thus, it would aj)pear that above all 
things, God desires the praise of men and angels ; the praise 
of terror He will get from the damned ; of love and grati- 
tude and fear from the Redeemed. Thus, according to this 
system, it is, that God, is and will be, glorified. 

Universalism starts with an entirely different definition 
of what is the end of creation. According to it, God is 
glorified not in exhibiting His attributes, but in the impart- 
ing of Himself, of His blessedness to His creatures, in 
making His whole intelligent creation virtuous and happy. 
The extension of the realm of conscious life and happiness 
is what led a good God to the creation of intelligent free 
agents. The contemplation of such creatures in their enjoy- 
ment of such happiness is a source of the most profound 
beatitude to and in the Godhead. To bring about such a 
state of universal virtue and happiness is considered to be 
the end of creation, and then, by applying the Monoistic 
principle, such a result is finally effected. All the intervals 
between the beginning and the end are but stages in a pro- 
cess of evolution, whereby in the end the benevolent pur- 
pose of God will be consummated. Evil is but a foil for 
the good, a stage, a transition and necessary stage in this 
evolution. The end will finally come when evil will be ob- 
literated and God will be the All-in-all. Calvinism makes 
creation a means to an end, that end being the manifesta- 
tion of the properties of God. Whether it is this manifes- 
tation in itself, the contemplation of Himself; or whether 
it is the observation of such a manifestation by His intelli- 
gent creatures, and the admiration of it, that is a source of 
satisfaction to the Divine Being, and therefore His object in 



164 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

creation, is not clearly enunciated in this system. Univer- 
salism makes creation an end. It is God's object, in it, to 
bestow life and happiness; and God delights in contem- 
plating the life and happiness of His creatures. Neither 
system experiences any difficulty as to discrepancies between 
the Divine intention and its result ; in both cases God's de- 
sire and intention is realized. Under Calvinism, He does 
succeed in manifesting both His mercy and His wrath ; 
according to Universalism, He will finally succeed in restor- 
ing all His creatures to life and happiness. In both cases, 
according to both definitions of the glory of God, granting 
that God creates all things to His ow^n glory, in both cases, 
the end of creation is finally realized ; and that this happens 
is entirely owing to the Monoistic principle, which both sys- 
tems adopt and use, in order to secure the end proposed in 
their respective systems. 

Universalism holds that God will gradually bring about 
the repentance of the whole human race, so that in the end 
there will be a restoration of all to virtue and happiness. 
This, as we have said, takes for granted two things : first, 
that such is God's desire ; and secondly, that it is practicable ; 
that God can bring about such a result. As to the first point, 
the argument arising from the fact of the Divine goodness 
and benevolence, as stated above, under the formula that 
God creates all tilings for His own glory ; interpreting this 
formula according to the universal system, — this argument, 
naturally leads to such a conclusion : a good God who delights 
in the contemplation of the happiness of His creatures, and 
who made them in order to be happy, evidently such a God 
would, if He could, bring about the final restoration of a 
fallen race. Thus, it is said expressly of Him, that " He 
will have all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge 
of the truth," that "He has no pleasure in the death of the 
wicked ; but that the wicked turn from His way and live.'* 



UNIVEKSALISM AND CALVINISM. 165 

There can be no question then as to God's wishes or desire 
in this matter ; it is quite evident that He would, if it were 
possible, bring all men in this life to repentance, and so to 
happiness. Universalism is evidently right in imputing 
such a desire, or wdsh as we term it, to the Creator. No 
doubt God has " good-will " towards men ; the whole system 
of His dealing with the race, to the end of their redemption, 
proves as much. Christ the Son of God, is also the Son of 
man, the offspring of the race, its universal Saviour ; He is 
expressly called, "the Saviour of the world;" and "He 
gave His life a ransom for all." But ; and here lies the 
difficulty, can this good- will be realized ? Can all men be 
brought to repentance ? Can the Saviour save all, whom 
He came to save ? Evidently not ; as He himself expressly 
says, " Ye will not come unto me that ye may have life." 
God may be willing ; nay, more, be desirous and wish to save 
the w^hole race ; but is it practicable ? Can even He the 
Omnipotent one, do it ? Universalism answers. Yes ; Cal- 
vinism imputes a different desire and intention to Him ; 
that He is desirous of saving only a portion of mankind ; 
but as to His ability to carry out the design, unhesitatingly, 
like Universalism, answers Yes. Both adopt the Monoistic 
principle, that God in the sphere of free agency, just as in 
that matter, is able, inevitably, to effect His desire, or will ; 
is able to do w^hat He would have done. If, then, He will 
have " all men to be saved," Universalism concludes, in- 
evitably, all men will be saved ; for who can resist His will, 
and so, too, Calvinism, only in this case, the salvation is 
restricted to some only — the elect. 

Now, if it be God's highest glory to have His intelligent 
universe virtuous and happy ; if this be the end which will 
conduce most to the glory of God, — and certainly it must be. 
If this end be not effected, then either it must be because it is 
impossible, or else we are mistaken in supposing that such au 



166 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

end, is to God's highest glory. But this is the only possible 
rational meaning we can assign to what is termed the glory 
of God ; therefore, if in opposition to Universalism, it is not 
effected, it must be, because it is an impossibility. Univer- 
salism adopting the Calvinistic Monoistic principle declares, 
that such an end is possible, and concludes justly from its 
premises that it is effected. In opposition to such a conclu- 
sion, which we believe to be in antagonism with the teach- 
ing of the Scriptures, we hold that such an end as the final 
restoration of the whole moral universe, to virtue and hap- 
piness, is not realized ; and that it is not because it cannot 
be ; because it is an impossibility ; and it is an impossibility 
because man is a free agent, a creature endowed with the 
godlike attribute of will, a free will which can set itself up 
in opposition to God, and resist even Him, and that suc- 
cessfully so far as concerns its control. God can control 
the person, the individual ; He cannot control His will ; 
He can hold him in subjection to His power ; but He can- 
not bring the will to voluntary subjection under Him. Man 
cannot escape the power of God as providential ; but so far 
as concerns any good to be done him personally in spirit, 
that he, man, can prevent. Man can resist God, can strug- 
gle against His power, applied as a restraining force ; can 
resist and quench the spirit tending gently to lead him, 
from within. God made man " in His own image," and 
" after His own likeness, in the image of God created He 
him." And then to intimate to him, that upon this mun- 
dane sphere he was lord, a god upon earth, responsible only 
to Him, God set man up, as lord over this earth, directing 
him to subdue it, and to have dominion over it, and over 
every living thing that moved upon it. Man's position is 
a heavily responsible one ; he stands at the head of this 
world, the whole being entrusted to him as a stew^ard, and 
some day he will have to give an account of his steward- 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 167 

ship. The great danger which besets a creature placed in 
such an independent and responsible position is, that he 
will become puffed up with pride, that he will think him- 
self self-sufficient, and will not feel his responsibility to 
God. Unfallen man need not experience, as we must now, 
the sense of weakness, and of dependence upon God for 
strength. The powers with which human nature was origi- 
nally endowed were sufficient, and man could of, and in 
himself, continue in the state of virtue and happiness. To 
become established in such a state, he had, as must inevi- 
tably be the case with every creature, free agent, in order 
to be confirmed in virtue, — to pass through the ordeal of 
temptation. Every created free agent must, we say, neces- 
sarily pass through such an ordeal, and must become per- 
fect through experience. Thus it was with Christ, the 
second Adam. His temptation in the wilderness is an exact 
representation of what every free agent must undergo, be- 
fore he can be confirmed or made perfect in virtue. In the 
rest of the life of Christ there was, of course, much more 
than would fall to the lot of a creature in the unfallen state, 
for Christ's situation was in the midst of a fallen race, and 
his human nature, certainly his body, was not that of an 
unfallen being, but no doubt was weak by reason of the 
stock from which it sprung. 

In the unfallen state, then, obedience, reverence and love 
was what it became man, to offer to God his Maker. He 
could depend upon Himself for the ability to perform all 
his duties. Pride, and a consequent insubordination was 
the greatest danger that beset him ; and this is exactly what 
brought about his ruin. Feeling himself so self-sufficient, 
ho dared to doubt, disbelieve, and disobey God ; thus he 
fell. Now, in our present condition, we have very different 
necessities ; we are in need of everything ; we have the 
formidable law of sin reigning within our membci*s, bring- 



168 UNIVERSALTSM AND CALVINISM. 

ing us in subjection to the law of sin and death; and at the 
same time we are subject to the same sin that caused the fall 
of Adam, and are almost universally inclined to think that 
we are self-sufficient. Thus, while we may be conscious of 
our unhappy condition, we at the same time imagine, that 
we can save ourselves. Still, we proudly assert our inde- 
pendence ; have all faith in ourselves ; none in God ; thus 
invariably, when any one sets to work, earnestly to attain 
to virtue, invariably, in the first place, he attempts to save 
himself Here, then, we have arrived at the great obstacle 
which prevents the salvation of the world. True, God " will 
have all men to be saved ; '' He has done, and is still doing, 
all that can be done in order to secure such an end ; but it 
cannot be because man will not. From one reason or an- 
other, either because men love darkness rather than light, 
or because even when they would attain to virtue, they will 
depend only upon themselves ; from various causes, it hap- 
pens, that men will not let God save them. As we are now 
situated, faith in God, is the only possible means of salva- 
tion ; we are, of ourselves, without strength ; therefore "with- 
out faith," now, '^it is impossible to please God.'' And 
yet, men, with all that God has done for them, will not 
learn this ; but either hold to other sins because they love 
them, or else strive to save themselves because they are self- 
sufficient. It is in sight of this state of things, that Christ, 
almost despairingly cries out, " Ye will not come unto me 
that ye might have life ; " and again, "If ye believe not 
that I am He, ye shall die in your sins." 

There can be no doubt, but that God would do much 
more for man than he does, if man would only permit it. 
It is man's rejection of His offers, both from without and 
from within, that prevents his own salvation and that seals 
his doom. Thus, Christ, w^hen He bewails the fate of Jerusa- 
lem, attributes it all to the obstinate, brutal, perversity of its 



UNIVEKSALISM AND CALVINISM. 169 

people. Indignantly, bitterly and sadly, He arraigns the 
ferocious fatuity of His countrymen. " Wherefore behold, 
I send unto you prophets and wise men and scribes, and 
some of them ye shall kill and crucify, and some of them 
shall ye scourge in your synagogues, and persecute them 
from city to city : That upon you may come all the right- 
eous blood shed upon the earth, from the blood of righteous 
Abel unto the blood of Zacharias son of Barachias, whom 
ye slew between the temple and the altar. Verily, I say 
unto you, all these things shall come upon this generation. 
O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets and 
stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I 
have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gather- 
eth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not. 
Behold, your house is left unto you desolate." Indignant 
at the fatuity of His countrymen, in thus perversely bring- 
ing down upon themselves so fearful a doom, Jesus at the 
same time inveighs and weeps. Evidently, if He could. He 
would have prevented this fatal future ; but looking back- 
wards and forwards, He sees that the case is hopeless ; He 
would ; but they will not. The same perversity which was 
in the past will be in the future ; the doom is therefore in- 
evitable. Here, then, is a case where God would do what 
apparently He cannot^ He would, but He cannot prevent 
this people from bringing upon themselves a doom which 
they will perversely persist in doing. 

It is acknowledged on all sides, that to be restored to 
happiness, man must be delivered from sin. He cannot de- 
liver himself; generally, he does not desire to be so deliv- 
ered at all. He loves the pleasure of sin, and neither tries 
to deliver himself, nor desires any one else to deliver him. 
In such case, of course, the first thing to be done, is to 
awaken such a desire ; and then supposing it to exist, still 
man cannot deliver himself; hence the necessity of fp^itb ift 
1^ 



170 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

God, who offers Himself to man as a Saviour, and leads 
every one that will, to His Son, for salvation. Thenceforth, 
ail that is required is, faith in, trust, and obedience, to Christ. 
Christ restores man to virtue, and thus to happiness. Far, 
" if the Son shall make you free, then are ye free indeed." 

God cannot restore the fallen free agent to virtue and 
happiness, without the exercise, by the free agent, of faith in 
Him. If he refuse to do this, either because he loves sin, 
or because he regards himself as self-sufficient, then his sal- 
vation is an impossibility ; he must die in his sins. " If ye 
believe not that I am He, ye shall die in your sins," He says. 
The state of unbelief is the only hopeless one for fallen hu- 
manity. Without faith in God, human salvation is an im- 
possibility. For how can God help one who will not let 
Him. It is the rejection of the offers of a Saviour God, that 
is the damning sin of any Christian community. " How 
can we escape," argues St. Paul, " if we neglect so great sal- 
vation." To neglect it is bad enough; to reject it, the sin 
which cannot be forgiven. But aside from all of this ; with- 
out accepting the offers of God ; without faith in God, sal- 
vation is an impossibility. 

Now, if we adopt the Monoistic principle that God can 
work faith in whomsoever He pleases, then inasmuch as 
*' He will have all men to be saved," since He " is not will- 
ing that any should perish, but that all should come to 
repentance," — since such is God's attitude, in relation to 
man's salvation, there is no reason why all should not be 
saved ; for if He will and can, nothing remains but that 
He shall thus realize His good-will towards man. The 
only way of escaping such a conclusion, is by denying one 
or the other of these premises. Calvinism denies the first, re- 
stricting God's good- will, and limiting it, to only a portion of 
the race, the elect ; as it is written : " Jacob have I loved ; but 
Esau have I hated." We, on the contrary, affirm the major 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 171 

premises, but deny the minor. We deny the proposition 
that God can work repentance and faith in the heart of any 
and of every one ; and that therefore, He can, or could, if 
He only*would, save all. Calvinism affirms this : God, it 
holds, could, if He would, save all ; but He would not : He 
would save only some, which He does. And then the other 
side of the question as Supralapsarianism proceeds to state 
it ; He could, if He would, damn all ; but He would damn 
only some, which He does. And this completes the system. 
God accomplishes His will on the one hand, in the salvation 
of the elect ; on the other, in the damnation of the repro- 
bate. Universalism on the opposite side, holds, that God 
could, if He would, damn all ; but He would not damn 
any, so He saves all. 

According to our statement of the doctrine, God would, 
if He could, save all ; but He cannot ; therefore, He saves 
all He can. On the other hand, God could, if He would, 
damn all ; but He would not " that any should perish ; " 
therefore. He damns only those that He is obliged to ; as 
few as He possibly can ; He saves as many as He can ; He 
damns as few as He can. 

The rea^m why all men are not brought to repentance 
and faith, is, because they cannot be, and they cannot be, 
simply because they w411 not ; their salvation is therefore an 
utter impossibility. God saves all that He can, and those 
who will not repent and believe are then relegated back upon 
their legal status, as creatures of free-will, subject to God's 
moral law, and are judged and punished according to their 
deeds. Absolute justice here is the rule of judgment, and 
every man will receive in exact accordance with the deeds 
done in the body. " To them who by patient continuance 
in well-doing, seek for glory and honor and immortality, 
eternal life." " But unto them that are contentious and do 
not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, indignation 



172 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

and wrath, tribulation and anguish, upon every soul of man 
that doeth evil, of the Jew first, and also of the Gentile.'' 
Thus, those who cannot, or who will not be saved, are finally 
to be dealt with, according to the principles of absolute jus- 
tice. God, on His part would save all men ; but all cannot 
or will not be saved ; these He deals with in accordance 
with the principles of justice, rendering to every man, 
according to his dues ; and the rest, those who can be saved 
because they accept the salvation of God, because by faith 
they depend upon Him ; those who will come to him ; — 
these He saves, restoring them to virtue and happiness. 

Universalism is obliged to grant that all men are not 
brought to repentance in this life ; but it insists upon ex- 
tending the time of probation, and holds that repentance 
can and will be brought about, hereafter, at least at some 
future time, in the long eternity that is before us. Holding 
that God can bring all to repentance, it asserts that finally 
He will ; He will never give over, until such an universal 
restoration is secured. But in such a system, one all-im- 
portant element in the Divine economy of the universe is 
entirely lost sight of; thus, while it is WTitten, "He is not 
willing that any should perish ; but that all should come to 
repentance ; " at the same time it is written, and as the pre- 
face to this benevolent statement, that " the Lord is long- 
suffering to usward." That is to say, that just as long as it 
is possible, in mercy. He delays the day of reckoning, thus 
giving all men an opportunity for repentance ; - so that every 
one who is desirous of salvation may attain it. He would 
shut no one out ; He invites all to enter in, and He gives 
the longest possible time ; but the very fact of this being an 
act of long-sufiering, proves that finally it must come to an 
end. The day of judgment, in mercy is long delayed ; but 
after all, it is but a delay, and finally, must come. Thus, in 
opposition to the view of Universalism, that there is no 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 173 

period too late for repentance ; it is very evident that there 
is. That there is a day coming when every man will have 
to give an account of himself to God. And very justly so, 
for we cannot suppose that the crimes which stain this world 
of ours, and the wickedness which already cries to high 
heaven for vengeance, are to go on indefinitely, and that 
men are never to be called to an account. If men are not 
brought to repentance in this life, there is no more reason why 
they will be in the life to come ; and if they do not repent, 
but continue to exist, every day will find them only worse 
and worse, and thus the other world will be even more 
terrible than this. The very same reasons which ke]3t men 
from repenting here, will prevent them from repenting there. 
God, in this life, brings all whom He can to repentance, 
and to faith in Him ; the reason why all cannot be thus con- 
verted is, because they will not, or because from other rea- 
sons, it has become an impossibility. The first is a positive 
reason, the second is a conclusive, but negative ; it is a state. 
The first is the position once occupied by the Jews, when 
salvation was of them, before Christ came ; and again when 
He preached the gospel in their midst. John the Baptist, 
the harbinger, had preceded Christ, calling upon the people 
to repent, because the kingdom of heaven was at hand. 
Here was repentance preached, but what came of it ? Some 
few heard him and obeyed ; but the rest were hardened, and 
finally they killed him because he dared reprove wicked- 
ness in high places. John the Baptist " came neither eating, 
nor drinking, and they said he hath a devil." " The Son 
of man came eating and drinking, and they say, behold a 
man, gluttonous and a wine-bibber, a friend of publicans and 
sinners." Thus it is, that a perverse heart treats both the 
call to repentance and to faith in the gospel. Such perverse 
ones reject the merciful counsel of God with respect to 
themselves ; contemn His overtures, despise his messengers, 
15^ 



174 UNI VERS ALISM AND CALVINISM. 

resist and quench His spirit. This is the positive side of 
the question. God cannot save such, because they will not 
be saved ; the call is extended to them ; but they stop their 
ears, and harden their hearts; "they will not come to 
Him that they might have life." Such was the position once 
occupied by the Jews, and such is now that occupied by the 
Christian world, where the call is every day extended, and 
men are entreated to repent and to believe the gospel. They 
cannot be saved, because perversely and obstinately, they 
will not be. And this will finally result in another state, 
the state in which the Jews are now. The time comes in 
the individual experience, and with a people, when, having 
resisted the Spirit and having despised the means of grace, 
at length they are withdrawn. The end of such a course is, 
that the heart becomes hardened. Unbelief takes firm pos- 
session of the soul, and salvation becomes a moral impossi- 
bility. When a man or a people arrives at such a state, 
God is said to give them up to a reprobate mind. Then the 
call is hushed ; the cry for repentance ceases to be heard in 
the streets ; the gospel invitation is withdrawn, to be offered 
to others not so hardened. Such a person, or people, is now 
concluded, within the fatal prison of unbelief, and therefore 
doomed. 

The negative reason why an individual or a people can- 
not be saved, is, when by a long course of sin and consequent 
degradation ; from the long continued dominion of false- 
hood and vice, they become so degraded, that they are 
for the time hopelessly brutalized. Under these circum- 
stances man has sunk into such a condition of darkness and 
wickedness, that he has almost ceased to be human, and it 
requires time and continued effort before anything can be 
done for, and with him. Sometimes it is error, which is the 
most fatal element in this departure ; sometimes it is the 
power of vice. Some of the heathen nations are more fa- 



UNIVER3ALISM AND CALVINISM. 175 

tally influenced by error, speculative and other, as in the 
case of the Oriental nations, the Chinese, Japanese, and Hin- 
doos ; and others, like the Africans, more deeply sunk in 
brutishness. In the first case, although there is a corre- 
sponding degradation in morals, still these people, so far as 
concerns intellectual development, have not sunk much, if 
at all, in the scale of humanity. Their intellectual activity, 
especially in the direction of speculative metaphysics, is very 
great. Therefore they are proud and self-sufficient ; and like 
the Greeks of old, despise everything that is not a philoso- 
phy. To bring them to repentance and faith, then, specula- 
tive errors have to be confuted. With other portions of the 
race, as in the case of the Africans, not only are they de- 
graded in moral character, but their minds are sadly 
stunted. The chief obstacle in the conversion of those who 
are in such a condition, is, the moral degradation and gross 
ignorance in which they are plunged. Besotted in igno- 
rance, they have to a great extent lost the original powers 
of the mind ; the slaves of vice, it is almost, if not impossi- 
ble, such as they now are, to bring them to repentance and 
faith. Perhaps, however, it is not impossible : and if so, 
then the responsibility of their salvation, and of all other 
heathens, who have not yet rejected the offers of grace, — 
this grievous responsibility rests upon us. God is willing, 
anxious, to have all men to be saved, and to be brought to 
the knowledge of the truth. He has done all that he can, 
and is still working wherever there is any possibility of 
success, to bring men to repentance ; in our hands are the 
means of salvation ; their salvation, if they have been pre- 
pared for it, depends upon us. God treating us like respon- 
sible free agents, has entrusted us with this charge, ex- 
pressly directing that we should go into all the world and 
preach the gospel to every creature. God prepares the 
way. It is our duty to try all to give every creature in this 



176 UNIVERSALISM AND . CALVINISM. 

creation that opportunity of salvation which the gospel pre- 
sents. We cannot, of course, but by the result, tell, when 
the harvest is ready ; but we must forever try, do our part, 
and leave the rest to God. The salvation of the heathen 
world is then conditioned by the propagation of the gospel ; 
the responsibility of their salvation rests upon us, a state- 
ment which, however, needs some modification. God, so far 
as it is possible, prepares the way ; and we must follow this 
up, and preach the gospel to every creature. It is possible, 
however, that there may be some prepared to receive the 
gospel, to whom it is never preached ; just as in the case 
of some of the ancients ; men who, though they have not 
the law, do by nature the things contained in the law ; men 
who, by faith, are seeking after righteousness. If there 
be any such, then, inasmuch as it is God who has done 
this good work in them, and inasmuch as it is said, that 
" God is no respecter of persons but in every nation he that 
feareth Him and worketh righteousness is accepted with 
Him." Such men falling within this category are judged 
accordingly, and " having by patient continuance in well- 
doing sought for glory and honor and immortality," are 
awarded " eternal life." There is then a present salvation to 
which through faith in the gospel we attain. The kingdom 
of God in its full historic development, under which is con- 
tained the remission of sin and the indwelling of the Holy 
Ghost ; the tasting of the good word of God and the power 
of the world to come ; it is impossible, we say, for any one 
to enter into this stage of the kingdom, and to experience 
its privileges without hearing and believing the gospel. But 
there are other and preceding stages in the development of 
this kingdom, so that there are members, of it, in disposi- 
tion, who have not yet attained to its privileges. Such were 
the worthies under the Old Testament dispensation, who all 
died in the faith, not having received the promises, but 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 177 

having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and 
embraced them and confessed that they were pilgrims and 
strangers on the earth. Such, doubtless, were some of the 
righteous among the heathen. All are of the kingdom ; all 
men of faith and poor in spirit ; but they lived only in hope, 
and have not attained that present, that conscious fruition 
of salvation, which we now who have believed in Christ, ex- 
perience. Thus, there may, even now, be many among the 
heathen, whom God has prepared by the operations of His 
grace and providence, who are prepared joyfully to receive 
the gospel message, so far as disposition is concerned, mem- 
bers of the kingdom, and yet unable to enter more fully 
into it without hearing the gospel. Such then, though not 
now participating in salvation, yet will not, finally, be cast 
out ; these are they who will come from the east and from 
the west, and will sit down with Abraham in the kingdom, 
while many in professing Christian lands, nay, even pro- 
fessing Christians will be cast out, for " God is no respecter 
of persons ; but in every nation he that feareth Him and 
worketh righteousness is accepted." Cornelius occupied such 
a position ; he was accepted, doubtless, by faith, just as Abra- 
ham was, while he was yet uncircumcised ; but Cornelius 
had not up to the time Peter preached Christ to him, attained 
to a present conscious salvation, and not until Peter had 
preached peace to him through Jesus Christ and through 
His name " to whomsoever should believe on Him remission 
of sins ; " not until Cornelius had heard this message and 
had received it, did he attain to peace with God and receive 
in his own consciousness the remission of sin. He had passed 
from the threshold of the kingdom, into its interior, and had 
now attained to a present salvation. Evidently, those situ- 
ated like Cornelius, yet who, unlike him, have not heard the 
gospel in this life, will certainly, upon the day of judgment, 
when those who by " patient continuance in well-doing seek 

M 



178 UNIVEESALISM AND CALVINISM. 

for glory and immortality," receive as their gracious award, 
full admission into the kingdom of Christ, which is " eternal 
life." 

It is evident, then, that, from some reason or other, alike 
within the pale of Christianity, and with the heathen, either 
because men will not, or because they are indifferent, love 
sin, and care not to repent and believe ; or, as in heathen 
countries, because they are devotedly attached to their own 
systems, and can only, therefore, despise the Christian ; or, 
because they are sunk through vice into a state of brutish- 
ness ; — from some or from all of these reasons it happens, 
that there are but few who can be brought to repentance 
and faith. The salvation of the great mass of the world is 
an impossibility. This state of things being due to man's 
constitution as a free agent ; a creature of free-will, he has 
tasted of the forbidden fruit and has now learned to like it, 
and to choose it rather than the fruit of the tree of life. 
The free agent has become involved in the element of evil, 
and while he cleaves to it he partakes of its deadly influence. 
" The wages of sin is death." God's benevolence is infinite. 
His good - will towards man is unbounded, " He is not 
willing that any should perish, but that all should come to 
repentance." He will have all men "to be saved and to 
come to the knowledge of the truth," and in proof of this, 
ITe " has sent His Son to be the Saviour of the world," and 
" to give His life a ransom for us all." " But wisdom crieth 
in vain in our streets, none regard her," as it is w^rittcu, 
" Who hath believed our report." " How long ye simple ones 
cries wisdom, will ye love simplicity ? and the scorners de- 
light in their scorning, and fools hate knowledge. Turn ye 
at my reproof. Behold, I will pour out my spirit upon you, 
I will make known my words unto you." But who attends ? 
A few only, a remnant hear, and the rest are hardened. 
Thus, God's benevolent intentions towards man are frus- 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 179 

trated ; " we will not come to Him that we may liave life.'' 
And perhaps this is the reason why such a vast portion, a 
majority, it is said, of the human race die in infancy. God 
takes them, in order to their salvation; thus altogether 
though some few will repent and believe, still the larger por- 
tion of the human race become partakers of eternal life. 
Why all are not thus taken in infancy is evident, for in such 
case the race would come to an end ; and why one is taken 
and not another, is, because of some higher law, a necessity 
of which we cannot now obtain cognizance. Everything 
that God does must be done with reason ; we cannot sup- 
pose the Almighty to act without reason ; why one is saved 
and another not, is because it could not be otherwise ; that 
is to say, both would be saved if it were possible ; there is 
some good reason why one is taken and another is left. We 
may not and cannot see why it is ; but we cannot but be- 
lieve that there is good reason for it, and consequently that 
it is just. We believe that God is good, and that He is 
just ; we are confident of His all-benevolence ; and when 
we see it not universally exercised, we know that there 
must be some good reason why this is so. We believe, 
moreover, that He is just ; that there is no favoritism with 
Him ; that He is no respecter of persons ; when, therefore, 
we see His benevolence withheld from some, we know that 
it must be with just cause, because there is something in the 
creature that prevents it, therefore it cannot be otherwise. 
We cannot believe that God acts perfectly arbitrarily, with- 
out having any reason for what He does ; there must be 
some reason why He does this and not that ; and we must 
hold fast to this, though we cannot possibly account for His 
action. If we do not, we may end in doubting both His 
goodness and His justice. 

Since, now, it is evident that there must be various insur- 
mountable reasons why the majority of the race cannot be 



180 UNIVERSALTSM AND CALVINISM. 

brought to faith and repentance in this life, it is plainly im- 
possible to see, even supposing the period of probation pro- 
longed, why it should be otherwise in the next life. The 
same reasons which hold good here, hold good there ; and 
since evil is a progressive development, there is even less 
hope there, than here. If, then, men are not brought to 
repentance and faith here, supposing the day of reckoning 
to be postponed to the judgment-day, it is evident that 
nowhere else will they be. 

But Universalism does not require repentance and faith 
to be wrought out previous to the day of judgment. It 
grants that there is such a day. Human nature cannot but 
acknowledge the day of judgment to be a moral necessity, 
for it cannot be that all the wrongs that are perpetrated 
upon tills earth go forever unredressed. If such a faith, or 
rather infidelity, ever become prevalent, inevitably, man 
will take vengeance into his own hands, and feel that he is 
only doing right in redressing his own wrongs. Many hea- 
then nations do this now ; and it is true, that if there be no 
ultimate tribunal, no sovereign vindicator of the right, and 
avenger of the wrong ; if there be no day of judgment and 
final redress of wrongs, then certainly vengeance is man's, 
and revenge is, as has been taught in most heathen nations, 
a solemn duty. 

Universalism is weak in this direction ; but it (that is the 
only plausible Universalism) admits a day of judgment, 
when every man will receive the award of his deeds. It is 
admitted that upon that day retribution is meted out. Uni- 
versalism dislikes, however, to use this phrase. It grants 
that punishment is allotted at the day of judgment ; but it 
is unwilling to look upon it in the light of retribution ; is 
inclined to regard it rather as a corrective discipline ; it can- 
not yet give up the notion that the end in view is, repent- 
ance, w^hich is to be wrought in the offender. It grants that 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 181 

the previous system, the one administered in this world, has 
proved unsuccessful ; but thinks that with a slight change 
of administration, by increasing the puritive element, that 
is, by adopting a kind of penitentiary system, that by this 
means the sinner can be brought to repentance and final 
salvation. Thus, it abruptly and firmly denies the doctrine 
of an eternal punishment, and affirms that by means of such a 
corrective disciplinary economy, the conversion of the sinner 
will be effected, and thus finally all, even the most repro- 
bate, will be won over, converted, and so saved. And so a 
final restoration will be effected, moral evil removed, and 
all mankind restored to virtue, love, and happiness. Is 
such a penitentiary system adapted to bring about repent- 
ance ? Punishment in itself has nothing in it calculated to 
effect true repentance. In itself it has a twofold signifi- 
cance ; it means retribution for the offence that is past, and 
a warning against its repetition in the future. As a pre- 
ventive against the perpetration of wrong, it acts through 
the principle of fear. The man who knows that a penalty 
is annexed to the perpetration of certain acts, is deterred 
from such action through fear ; that is, he knows if he com- 
mits such acts he will have to suffer for it, and this fear of 
suffering, is what restrains him. After he has committed 
the forbidden act ; has been discovered, and has been con- 
demned, and fallen under the penalty of the law, then he 
enters the penitentiary. Now he is enduring the punish- 
ment annexed by the law to the perpetration of a certain 
act. Is it to be supposed that this punishment can have 
any efiect in softening the man, in changing his heart, so 
that he will hate what he before loved. If he knows that 
by becoming penitent he can put an end to his punish- 
ment and be restored to liberty, doubtless he will appear 
to be penitent. If criminals by becoming penitent could 
escape from the penitentiary, certainly all would appear to 
16 



182 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

become so. But what as to the reality ? Punishment does 
certainly deter from crime, and can certainly turn out any 
number of hypocritical penitents ; but it has not in it one 
element tending to soften and to change the heart. On the 
contrary, it hardens, and therefore sinks the criminal lower 
and lower in the abyss of hell. It is all a delusion to sup- 
pose that by means of punishment man can ever be brought 
to repentance, faith, and final salvation. When once it falls, 
a retributive nemesis, upon the offender, his doom is sealed. 
If he think that by repenting he can escape, doubtless he 
will and can become — but what? — a hypocrite. If the 
duration of the punishment is irrespective of his doings ; if 
it is to cease at some definite future time, he will but curse 
the day upon which he was born, and the God in whose 
hand he is ; but he will not, cannot, repent. Punishment 
will not improve him, can n^ver convert the sinner, and at 
the end of it, supposing it to be temporary, though for the 
future he might be restrained from sin, that is, from certain 
overt acts, through fear of incurring a repetition of his suf- 
ferings, still he will not be, a changed man. On the con- 
trary, he will be only the more hardened in his sins ; per- 
haps he may be more prudent; but certainly, not better. 
Thus it is true, that no system of punishment, can bring 
man, truly, to repentance. Since, then, neither the system 
of grace, in this life, nor that of punishment in the next, 
can bring about such a result ; inasmuch therefore, as the 
impenitent in this world, will remain such to eternity, since 
nothing can make them otherwise, — necessarily being eter- 
nally impenitent, they must be eternally punished ; and 
since this impenitence is ever becoming more hardened, and 
the sinner more defiant, the punishment, must be, ever, 
becoming more severe. 

Moreover, since the economy of severity, which is to suc- 
ceed the present, so far from bringing about true peni- 



UNIVEEISALISM AND CALVINISM. 183 

tence, on the contrary hardens, it follows, that penitence is 
not its end. Future punishment does not aim at effecting 
repentance : it is not therefore a system of corrective disci- 
pline; it must mean something else. And thus we are 
forced to fall back, in explaining it, upon the doctrine of 
retribution. Since, then, in this life, repentance is not 
effected by the goodness of God, nor in the life to come can 
be effected by His severity, it follows that it cannot and 
will not be brought about at all. A final restoration be- 
comes, then, an impossibility ; Universalism is a delusion ; 
the future state of all who die impenitent necessarily and 
inevitably is one of retribution ; there is no possible way of 
escaping this conclusion. 

Universalism is loth to admit this ; it will not, but per- 
sists in denying it, fatuously clinging to its delusion of a 
final, universal restoration. But such a conclusion is ab- 
solutely untenable, being contradicted by the facts of the 
case. The future state of the impenitent can only be one 
of retribution, not a state or a dispensation of a reformatory 
character, in which punishment is to be regarded as simply 
corrective. The object of such a dispensation is not to 
bring its subjects to repentance ; that is simply an impossi- 
bility. It was impossible during this life- under its econ- 
omy, where the goodness of God is ever leading men to re- 
pentance ; and when such an influence fails, or is in some 
w^ay frustrated, it is very certain that severity w^ill never 
succeed. Punishment, as we have shown, only hardens. 
If known to be temporary, it only embitters and hardens ; 
if known to be conditioned upon repentance, it only begets 
hypocrisy. Punishment, therefore, cannot effect true 
penitence ; and if this be the case ; if the sinner who dies 
impenitent can never be brought to repentance ; inasmuch 
as he must ever continue an unrepentant sinner, he must 
continue, ever, under punishment. Eternal punishment 



184 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

does not mean that for one sin, or that for all the sins 
perpetrated during this life, that for these, the sinner shall 
be forever punished. It means rather, that since the impen- 
itent man will ever continue impenitent, since, moreover, 
he will ever continue to get worse, more hardened, and 
more defiant, as such, he must ever remain under punish- 
ment. If he should ever repent, he would cease to be pun- 
ished ; but when a man will not repent, what remains but 
that he should be punished ? He will not repent of the 
sins he has done in this life, and this alone would demand 
an eternal punishment ; but besides this being impenitent, 
there can be no doubt but that in the other world, provided 
he have the opportunity, he will continue to sin, and so re- 
quire additional punishment. It is self-evident, admitting 
the element of punishment, simply on the principle of its 
being a corrective discipline ; it is evident, that until the 
end desired is gained, which is the repentance of the sinner, 
that until then, it cannot cease to be inflicted. And if this 
end, by such a means, can never be gained, — as will appear 
to any one who will look into the philosophy of such a sys- 
tem as applied to human nature, — then, from this point of 
view, punishment must continue for ever. Add to this the 
principle of retribution, that the guilty deserve to be pun- 
ished, and the case is still stronger ; for surely one deserves 
to be punished so long as he continues unrepentant. Thus 
the two stand to each other in the relation of co-ordinates : 
Impenitence, retribution; eternal impenitence and sin, eter- 
nal retribution. 

Eetiibution, as a state, is an inevitable fact in the evolu- 
tion of God's moral universe. Had neither man nor angels 
fallen, it would not have been ; but once admit evil, and at 
once it becomes a necessity. Though the long-suffering of 
God long delay it, still it must come ; a Nemesis, gloomy 
and inevitable, it overhangs a doomed creation. It is the 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 185 

voice of justice, and justice cannot be forever postponed. 
In our horror at the evil that surrounds us, at the mad 
blasphemy, foul licentiousness, and wicked injustice that 
everywhere calls to high heaven for vengeance, we wonder, 
that the lightnings of God do not descend and blast this 
sin-reeking world of ours. But God evidently is long-suf- 
fering to usward, " not willing that any should perish, but 
that all should come to repentance." And this is the only 
explanation for this seeming long delay in the administra- 
tion of justice, which so strikes us. Retribution, the ad- 
ministration of justice, must, we say, finally come. It is a 
moral necessity in God's moral universe, now that evil has 
found a lodgment in it. Every wrong that has ever been 
perpetrated demands redress, and God's position in His 
universe, and His revelation to His creatures, declares Him 
to be the natural vindicator of the right, and therefore, too, 
the avenger and redresser of their wrongs. " Vengeance 
is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord." We are to leave 
this whole matter in His hands, assured, that justice will 
finally, be thoroughly administered. God, w^e say it with 
reverence, is obliged, from the moral necessity residing in 
Himself, and from the relation in which He stands with re- 
spect to the moral universe, — is obliged, to punish wrongs, 
evil, of any description. " Shall not the Judge of all the 
earth do right." Seeing, then, retribution is an inevitable 
fact, and since such a dispensation has nothing in it calcu- 
lated to lead to repentance and faith ; since, therefore, it can 
never bring about such a change of heart, it follows, that 
there must be a state where there is no possibility of such 
a change, and, therefore, none, of a future restoration. 
There is, then, a hopelessly impenitent state, and corre- 
sponding to it an endless retribution. Universalism is then, 
in that it demands an universal final restoration, a psychi- 
cal impossibility. Impossible, because man is a free agent ; 
16^ 



186 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

because Monoism is a fallacy ; because retribution is a moral 
necessity ; because, in fine, endless retribution is a psychical, 
and a moral necessity. 

Universalism, is a moral result, and as such, has its legiti- 
mate causes. It is, when it is pure, and not used as an ex- 
cuse for continuance in sin, the effort of human nature to 
escape the terrifying fact of an eternal punishment. To 
those dispositions which are of a mild and benevolent type, 
such a fearful finality as impending any portion of the race 
of which they are members, no matter how wicked soever the 
sinner may be ; to such dispositions, such a doom appears too 
awful to be true ; they cannot and Avill not endure the thought 
of it : hence the system of Universalism, and its advocacy 
by such men as an Origen, a Clement of Alexandria, and 
other good men. This on the human side. On the divine ; 
regarding the goodness of God only, such benevolent dispo- 
sitions find it impossible to conceive of Him, as dooming any 
of His creatures to eternal torment ; they cannot but believe 
Him to delight in the happiness of His creatures, and can- 
not give up the hope that, by some means or other. He will 
in the end succeed in bringing men to repentance, faith, and 
thus to salvation ; and even if not by such means, still they 
cling to the hope that in some other way, though incompre- 
hensible to us, God's omnipotence will succeed in finally 
conquering the sinner, and in restoring him to virtue and 
happiness. These two positions, taken together, constitute, 
what gives rise to Universalism, that is, in its integrity. 
For inasmuch as such a belief is most comfortable to human 
nature, naturally it will be popular, and will be heartily 
welcomed by those who are impure and who delight in sin. 
And could such a creed but become generally received, the 
consequences would be most appalling ; inevitably all those 
barriers which God in His merciful providence has erected 
against vice, would be swept away, and soon, very soon, this 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 187 

world would become a very hell. It is fear, and that alone, 
that can restrain the imj)ure and the ungodly. The spread 
of Universalism is fraught with danger to society, and car- 
ries with it an ominous aspect. There is, however, this 
counter ground of hope, that inasmuch as Universalism 
contradicts some of the fundamental facts of our conscious- 
ness, it is not probable that it can ever become the prev- 
alent religious system. It can seldom, if ever, entirely 
banish the fear of death and of the Judgment ; the con- 
sciousness of guilt is too firmly planted in human nature to 
be so easily uprooted. There is, then, this hope. 

That the spirit of Universalism is widely diffused, is ap- 
parent, in the stand which society so generally takes in re- 
lation to retributive justice. The fact that a man deserves 
to suffer for his crime, that punishment is his due, his just 
award ; that in its omission, injustice is perpetrated ; this view 
of crime seems to have entirely disappeared. To pardon 
the guilty, can be as much an act of injustice, as to punish 
the innocent. Retribution is a due, a moral necessity at- 
taching to guilt. But this connection seems, now, to be en- 
tirely overlooked. All the sympathies of society, seem, to 
go out towards the guilty ; none feel with the injured party. 
And yet he has his rights ; and to ignore them, is to perpe- 
trate a rank injustice. To apportion the punishment to the 
offence, is of course, a matter of delicacy, requiring a just 
judgment ; justice here again comes in, and ought to ad- 
judge the proper award. It is unjust to hang a man for 
stealing, no matter how necessary it be for the welfare of 
society. Such an act, no matter how legal the process, 
cries to high heaven for vengeance. The land which has 
such laws is polluted, with the shedding of innocent blood. 
But, on the other hand, it is just as unjust to pardon the 
murderer, or commute his sentence : " Whoso sheddeth 
man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed. For in the 



188 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

image of God created He him." This is an eternal fact, a 
law of justice, and until carried into effect, the blood of the 
murdered man pollutes the land in which it is shed, and 
cries to heaven for vengeance. So widely is this weakly, 
sentimental, unjust, infidel spirit, of Universalism, now dif- 
fused, that the whole system of our civil polity has been 
infected by it. Justice, distributive and retributive, as ele- 
ments in the civil economy of the State, are now, very gen- 
erally, disastrously ignored ; and justice, so called, is ad- 
ministered without any reference to its eternal demands. 
Society, it is said, has only to consider its own wellbeing. 
Civil government, it is said, has no higher law than expe- 
diency. And how, is what is expedient, to be determined ? 
Not by reference to the judgments of an Eternal justice, — 
which, if it only were done, would in the end be found to 
be true expediency. No, there is no settled way now for 
determining what is expedient, but only the ever fluctu- 
ating opinions, of our often ignorant, and generally corrupt 
and unprincipled legislators and governors. Eternal jus- 
tice, is the highest and truest expediency ; and unless this is 
discovered and acted upon in time, society will begin to dis- 
integrate, and will collapse. Men will suffer anything 
rather than injustice: it requires oftentimes all the faith 
and resolution of the Christian to stand quiet and to en- 
dure wrong ; and even he could not, w^ere it not written, 
" Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord." When 
civil government fails to administer justice, men will take 
the matter into their own hands. Retribution is a necessity 
of man's moral nature. God, in the Scriptures, meets that 
necessity, and will satisfy it ; and this is all that the Scrip- 
tures require of us in this matter. They do not demand a 
suppression of this instinct, but only that we should refer 
our cases to Him who judgeth righteously, and to whom 
vengeance properly belongeth. The fact that " every one 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 189 

of US must give an account of himself to God ; " that " we 
must all stand before the Judgment-seat of Christ to re- 
ceive, according to the deeds done in the body, whether 
they be good or bad ; " that the demands of impartial justice 
will therefore finally be manifestly vindicated : this fact, 
stands, the very corner-stone of God's moral government of 
the universe. Were not this belief as firmly imbedded in 
the human consciousness as it is, this world of ours would 
soon become a moral chaos, a perfect hell of confusion and 
wickedness. The consciousness of such a future fact, dim 
and undefined as it often is, is what lies at the bottom of 
all our systems of legislation. For what, primarily, is the 
whole complex system of law and penalty, but an expres- 
sion of the principle of justice; the application of justice 
to the various relations in which man as a social being 
stands with respect to his fellow-man. It is the effort of 
law, to make man act with justice, towards his fellow-man ; 
and this it strives to effect, by threatening punishment to 
the offender. When man, as a citizen, fails to act justly to- 
wards his fellow, and wrongs him, then justice requires, that 
the wrong-doer, as the perpetrator of an act of injustice, 
should be punished ; the nature and severity of such pun- 
ishment to be determined according to the principles of the 
same justice. Justice, in the civil polity, first, seeks to pre- 
vent injustice; but when injustice is perpetrated, it can 
maintain itself only by punishing such injustice. It is the 
departure from this unfailing rule of God's eternal justice, 
and substituting in its stead the uncertain one of a short- 
sighted, uncertain expediency, that constitutes, the danger, 
that now besets society, in this direction. Such a reaction, 
against the principle of justice, is an unhealthy sign ; there 
is much to be feared in it. Justice, is the only principle, 
that society, organized under a civil polity, ought to regard 
and attempt to realize. And when it ceases to be fairly, 



190 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

honestly, and rigliteously administered, then the disintegra- 
tion of that society is determined upon, the fatal handwrit- 
ing has appeared upon the wall. 

Universalism, regarding the goodness of God, holds, that 
He will have all to be saved, and w^ould eternally damn 
none ; then regarding His omnipotence, it holds, that this 
good-w^ill of God towards man will finally be realized. In 
order, then, to meet the demands of such a system, the 
Monoistic principle must be introduced. The Monoistic 
principle is borrowed from Calvinism. In Emerson — who 
issues from the very centre of Puritanism — this doctrine 
has finally reached its climax. Under his system, man, as an 
individual, responsible being, has disappeared. Each indi- 
vidual is but the expression and a manifestation of the "Over 
soul." Thus, man is God ; and man thinking, feeling, and 
willing, is God thinking, feeling, and w^illing. Man is then 
no longer a responsible being ; there is no one for him to 
be responsible to. To be himself, to act in accordance with 
the demands of his own constitution, is to be virtuous and 
religious. This Pantheism, is, we say, the natural result of 
the Monoistic principle. It magnifies the power of God, 
but it does so at the sacrifice of man's individuality, and, 
therefore, of his responsibility. It ends in having only one 
being in the universe ; all the diversities w^hich appear, be- 
ing only the various manifestations of such a being, — thus, 
finally, man loses his own individuality, and becomes, the 
All. Pantheism is the congenial element of Universalism, 
and therefore we find them generally sympathizing w^ith 
each other. Evidently the Universalism of this age, is a 
reaction against Calvinism ; yet it has not torn itself com- 
pletely loose from it, for it takes with it the fundamental 
dictum of Calvinism, its Monoistic principle. It is a revolt 
against the major premise of Calvinism, but retains its 
minor. Corresponding with such an analysis, we see Uni- 



UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 191 

versalism generally takes its rise and flourishes within com- 
munities, which were previously and decidedly Galvinistic. 
The Monoistic doctrine is, as a generalization, too hasty. In 
attempting to maintain the monarchism of God and the 
unity of the universe, it denies, or ignores free will. True, 
God's will, as a determinative counsel or plan, is in the end 
inevitably realized ; but it is in the face of, and consistently 
with, the fact of free agency. Free will necessitates a dual- 
ism in the universe. There are now two pov/ers at work in the 
universe, and they can be opposed the one to the other ; the 
creature can resist his creator. Thus it is in the case of the 
devil, and thus, to a great extent, is it with man. God is the 
creator of free will ; therefore He has seen fit to limit or con- 
dition Himself. And the problem now presented is, to con- 
trol this tremendous and now refractory force of free agen- 
cy. The Monoistic principle, adopted in Calvinism and by 
Universalism, is an effort to explain the manner of this, 
God's moral government ; but it ignores free will, and nat- 
urally results in Pantheism. True, God's will is finally real- 
ized, both in the saved and the lost, but in a w^ay in which 
full consideration is given to the element of free will. God 
saves all who can be, or who will be saved. He damns, or 
subjects to an endless retribution, all who cannot and who 
will not be brought to repentance and faith. Thus in both 
cases. His will is realized. And the same is true of the will 
of the free agent, — his will, too, is realized ; his aw^ard is 
j ust in accordance with what he would have : what he sows, 
that in the end he reaps. Thus, free will, is not a mere fig- 
ment of the imagination, a delusion, but a reality ; man is 
fearfully responsible, and Pantheism becomes impossible. 
The monarchism of God, maintained and explained accord- 
ing to the Monoistic principle, seems simple enough ; it is 
easily comprehensible, because it is shallow, for things are 
often easy just in proportion to their shallowness. But such 



192 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

a theory is unsatisfactory ; it does not take into account all 
the facts of the case ; it overlooks the important fact of free 
will, and is, therefore, as a canon of interpretation, falla- 
cious ; and since upon it rests the possibility of Universal- 
ism, it too, is a falsehood. 

It is evident, that from the very beginning, there has been 
a strong effort on the part of human nature to make an end 
of evil. That the belief in the immortality of the human 
being is almost, if not entirely, universal, is evident from 
the universal prevalence of the doctrine of the transmigration 
of souls. In this doctrine, two subordinate points are in- 
volved : first, a belief in the immortality of the soul, and 
secondly, a belief, with an effort to explain its method, in the 
final abolition of the element of evil. For that such is the 
final end aimed at in this process of transmigration, is clear; 
it was no doubt originally simply the symbolic declaration of 
such a doctrine, and then, soon came also to express the 
manner of the purgatorial process. Thus it was understood 
by Pythagoras, and by Plato, who lays down the number of 
years necessarily consumed in the process. 

The very same tendency which led in the first place to 
the formation of such a doctrine and system, operating sub- 
sequently within the consciousness of the Alexandrine 
fathers, in a Clement and an Origen, led to the Christian 
version of this doctrine, which was by them first enunciated. 
Thus in the Alexandrian doctrine of a " final restoration," 
the heathen doctrine of transmigration passed over into 
Christianity, and became thenceforth, to a considerable ex- 
tent, prevalent as a dogma, in the Christian consciousness. 
Nothing, however, was propounded as to the manner by 
which this purgation was to be accomplished. Only one 
point in the heathen formula was appropriated by the Alex- 
andrine Christianity, namely, the fact of the final abolition 
of evil ; the manner of the process was for the time left un- 



TJNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 193 . 

explained. Clement and Origen, taught nothing as to trans- 
migration, of souls, not even the doctrine of Purgatory. 
Their Neo-Platonism did not carry them so far ; they only 
brought over with them from Platonism to Christianity the 
idea of a final restoration, which opinion, they thought they 
found a sanction for, in the Scriptures. The doctrine of 
Purgatory was an advance ; and although in the Western 
Church the other point of a final restoration did not take 
root, as it had done in the East, still this doctrine of Purga- 
tory was from the same source — the old heathen doctrine, 
as set forth in the Metempsychosis. In the doctrine of 
Purgatory, a method of purgation is propounded ; it is still 
the same old tendency striving to realize itself. In this 
modern formula, for the old heathen doctrine of metemp- 
sychosis, there is a decided narrowing and limitation of it. 
The purgation is held to apply only to a few, to imperfect 
saints, or, at the furthest, to the baptized ; but still it may 
be recognized as the same old heathen doctrine of transmi- 
gration of souls, the same old tendency reappearing and 
now operating within the Christian consciousness, narrowed 
and limited by means of positive dogmas. 

The Universalism of this age, again presents before us, the 
operation of this same force ; at once we recognize it as the 
same principle that gave rise to the Roman dogma of Purga- 
tory ; further back we recognize it in the theology of Alex- 
andria, and, as seen, in the doctrine of a final restoration ; 
further back still, we find the same thing in the Metemp- 
sychosis of Pythagoras and Plato, and further back still, 
as an element in all the religions of the East. This ten- 
dency, evidently, is deeply seated in human nature, and can - 
not be restrained, not even by the most e:^pUcit statements 
contradicting it in revelation. Man finds it hard to give 
up the hope, that perhaps, after all, things may turn out 
happily. Perhaps, he thinks, after all, this may be but a 
17 N 



194 UNIVERSALISM AND CALVINISM. 

dream, a frightful nightmare, and we may awake to find 
that it is all an illusion. It is hard for man to give up all 
hope, and to feel that all is lost, that life is in fact a grim 
reality ; that after death there is the Judgment ; and behind 
all, eternal punishment ; that every one that believeth not 
shall be damned, eternally lost ; this, we say, man finds it 
hard to believe, and therefore — Universalism. But thus 
it is written, and an analysis of the true state of the case 
will show us that what is written is in fact the truth ; that 
it is reasonable, that it is just; that it is a moral and 
psychical necessity in God ; a moral and psychical necessity 
in man ; that it is impossible that it should be otherwise, — 
therefore, that it is inevitable. - 



CHAPTER VT. 

CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL- WORSHIP. 

AS long as the world will persist in worshipping the Devil, 
so long will its highest and seemingly most glorious 
creations prove themselves mere bubbles. The kingdom of 
the devil necessarily is an illusion. It presents often a glo- 
rious aspect, and mocks humanity with the hopes which it 
begets. Civilization, the highest expression and manifesta- 
tion of all human kingdoms, often seems glorious to behold, 
and everything seems to be progressing towards a magnifi- 
cent finality. Thus mankind is lured along, and while 
earnestly engaged in building the structure, becomes abso- 
lutely intoxicated with the rapidity of its erection. He 
thinks that he is founding a kingdom which cannot be 
moved. Like the ancients after the flood, he fondly imag- 
ines that he is building another Babel, whose head shall 
soar over the very clouds, and whose foundations shall not 
be removed ; no matter how terrible any future convulsion. 
And yet this is all a delusion ; he is but blowing a bubble, 
which may burst at any moment ; he is erecting a structure 
which will in the end collapse, from the rottenness of its 
foundation, and from the weakness of the material of which 
it is built Already in the history of the world there have 
been many civilizations, and they have all vanished, col- 
lapsed, and the place that once knew them shall know them 
no more. Civilization ; what is it ? It is an ultimate 
result, arising from the conjoint operation of all the forces 

195 



196 CIVILIZATION, AND dEYIL-WOKSHIP. 

acting within any definite section of the human race. 
Abstractly or theoretically, there might be but one civiliza- 
tion common to the whole human race ; but practically, as 
history witnesses, this is not the case. The human race 
seems to be divided into natural sections or families ; and 
each one of these sections has its own peculiar civilization. 
The individuality of nations is as determinate as is that of 
persons ; w^hat it is that determines this national individual- 
ity, whether it be race or situation, under which we include 
all climatic influences ; what it is that draws these lines, 
and makes one people or nation so decidedly different from 
another, it is hard to say ; still, that there are, and always 
have been, such lines of demarcation, is, evidently a fact. 
Corresponding to such differences, there have always been 
marked differences within that general result which w^e term 
civilization. Different peoples, during different periods of 
the world's history, have constantly presented their own 
distinct and characteristic forms of civilization. Nineveh 
and Babylon in Asia, give us one, and perhaps the most 
ancient, of these forms. Egypt, too, presents another of 
these ancient results in civilization. Descending in the line 
of history ; in the Western world, we come in contact with 
the civilization of Greece ; and then with that of the Eo- 
man Empire, which precedes the civilization of the Middle 
Ages ; which fades away into ours, that in which we now 
find ourselves placed. Each of those empires, during the 
periods of their respective existence, presented its own pe- 
culiar phase of civilization ; what it is that determines this 
product, is, we say, impossible exactly to fix upon. But 
that such phases of civilization have existed, that for many 
years they flourished, and that they have now passed away, 
apparently never to return; these are all facts; and in 
forming any theory, on this subject of civilization, they 
ought to be taken into consideration. That there are 



CIVILIZATION, AND d EVIL-WORSHIP. 197 

varieties in the forms of civilization, is no more strange, than 
that there are characteristic differences in individuals. We 
cannot tell why it is that one man has a talent for mechan- 
ics, another for the fine arts, another for literature, and 
another for trade ; that there are such marked differences 
in individuals and characters, is evident; and the same 
thing is true of nations. The civilization of any particular 
people will give us, in its characteristic features, — in that 
which distinguishes it from the civilization of any other 
people, — the peculiar genius of that particular people. Thus, 
take those representative peoples, the Jews, the Greeks, and 
the Romans. The Jews give us religion, as their character- 
istic feature ; the Greeks give us the fine arts ; the Romans 
give us law and the power of organization, the idea of soli- 
darity. And so, we might take any other nation, and point 
out the characteristic feature in its civilization. What was 
the characteristic feature of the Mediaeval civilization ? Evi- 
dently, it w^as but the Roman principle taking hold of, and 
seeking to mould 4;he Jewish. Christianity was of the Jews ; 
as a religion it took possession of the Roman Empire ; and 
thenceforth, its history is, but the evolution of a sacerdotal 
Imperialism ; a mixture of the Roman and Jewish elements. 
The Papal constitution in' its gradual evolution, and in its 
finality as exhibited under a Hildebrand, was but the ge- 
nius of the old Roman Empire, working within the sphere 
of the ecclesiastical and spiritual. The ecclesiastical em- 
pire could never have reached its final proportions in any 
other society and age, than in one thus pervaded by the 
spirit of Roman Csesarism. 

All the nations now existing, have their own peculiar 
characteristic forms of civilization. But here, a limitation 
is to be observed. In former times, when the segregation- 
of nations was much more complete than it is now, the dif- 
ferences of national civilization were necessarily much more 
17^ 



198 CIVILIZATION, AND dsVIL- WORSHIP. 

marked than now. The first great aggregation of mankind 
that we know of, was that under the Homan Empire. Rome 
in conquering a large portion of the then world, brought all 
the former separated portions of mankind into a much more 
intimate union with each other than had ever before ex- 
isted. The consequence of such a unity was, necessarily, a 
community, more or less, in civilization. There was an amal- 
gamation, more or less complete, and the whole Empire par- 
took, to some extent, of the civilization of its most civilized 
portion. A community of civilization was thus established, 
the points of difiference being reduced, and merged in a more 
general and unique whole. And just what the Roman Em- 
pire did, for that portion of the world over which its sway 
extended, Christianity and the appliances of the civilization 
of the day, does for us. The nations of Christendom cannot 
be considered as entirely different ; their distinctive charac- 
teristics have necessarily been somewhat modified and im- 
paired. A common religion, a literature, which, even when 
the languages difier, still by means of translations, now be- 
come so usual, is common to all, and which penetrates all ; 
such influences, must necessarily tend to amalgamate the 
w^hole, and to bring them all within the sphere of a certain 
unity of mind and of sentiment. True, even with all this, 
still national characteristics are decidedly marked, but not 
near so strongly as would have been the case had these 
amalgamating instrumentalities not existed. There is then 
a higher and more general individuality now, than the na- 
tional ; such, for instance, as the one designated by the term 
Christendom. Just as the Jew was distinct from the Gen- 
tile, so is the Christian world, or family of nations, distinct 
from the heathen national Hierarchy. The civilization of 
the Christian nations, is, then, subject to this modification ; 
and just in proportion as these modifying influences are 
general, will their form of civilization be unique. The 



CIVILIZATION, AND cIeVIL WORSHIP. 199 

civilization of the heathen group, or family of nations, is 
distinct from that of the Christian nations. And in pro- 
portion as they are isolated from each other, will the^. differ- 
ence in this respect, be marked. But here, also, in many 
cases, the same modifying influences, such as a common re- 
ligion and literature, are to be found at work, and must of 
course, therefore, be taken into consideration ; and this will 
often serve to account for much of that sameness, which is 
alike observable in the civilization of such separate heathen 
nations. There are not many sections of the race so entirely 
isolated, as to have nothing in common with their fellow- 
men. There are some, however, apparently, in such a situa- 
tion ; the African seems to be one in point. Their civili- 
zation, what there is of it, is unique ; is of themselves, and 
marks them out as conspicuous in their individuality. The 
state of isolation is, naturally, the one best adapted to 
the maintenance of a distinct individuality. Contact, neces- 
sarily tones down differences, and tends to assimilate. The 
more free the intercourse, the less probability there is, of 
difference. Thus, it is observable, that in the unity of a 
people, there is an evident sameness ; the whole body is per- 
vaded by one spirit. We can observe such an influence at 
work, first in families, which constitute the primary unities 
of the human race. Every family has its own tone, more 
or less marked, modified necessarily, to some extent, by the 
influences prevalent in the society of which it is a member. 
Every family has its more general or national, and then, its 
more specific, its own peculiar tone. Every nation, subject 
to the same conditions, resulting from its contact with other 
families of nations, has its own peculiarities, its national 
characteristics. And furthermore, inasmuch as there is a 
certain communion between the various families of nations 
which are contemporaneous, it is observable, that every age 
has its characteristic features. We can designate eras, as 



200 CIVILIZATION, AND d EVIL- WORSHIP. 

truly, and as characteristically, as we can individuals and 
nations. 

Civilization, in its gradual evolution, and in its finality, 
gives such a result, as the forces peculiar to human nature, 
are capable of effecting. It is the result, not of any one, 
but of all the forces belonging to human nature. It is the 
flower and the fruit of humanity. Like the aloe, it gener- 
ally, in fact invariably, takes a long time to come to ma- 
turity. Like that plant, it blooms but once ; that is to say, 
the perfection or climax in any nation's civilization is 
reached but once ; and then it begins to die. Of course, all 
along, during the process of such a growth or evolution 
there is a civilization ; but not in its perfection : after that 
is reached, thenceforth the process is reversed, and assumes 
that of a decline. Nations, like individuals, have their 
day. Like individuals, they have their eras of youth, ma- 
turity, and old age ; and finally they die, and leave nothing, 
but dust, behind them. Owing to the segregation which has 
up to this time existed with respect to the various secti6ns 
of mankind, there has been no such general unity as an 
universal, common, civilization. There is not now, nor ever 
has been, one civilization common to the whole human 
race. There is such a thing common to certain aggrega- 
tions of national families, so that we can truly speak of a 
Christian, or European, or Western civilization ; or again, 
of an Eastern civilization ; and we have a definite notion of 
w^hat is thereby meant. Under such expressions we know 
what is signified. When we read of Chinese or Japanese, 
or of Hindoo, or of African civilization, we have as definite 
a notion of what is meant as when we hear of the civiliza- 
tion of Christendom. And perhaps the day may come, 
when there will be a still more general unity, and when the 
term, human civilization will, too, suggest a definite idea. 
Not that all nations will be entirely alike ; no more so than 



CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL-WORSHIP. 201 

England and France and Germany and Russia now are ; 
that would be to ignore the principle of individuality. 
Still, consistently with such individuality, and therefore 
characteristic forms of civilization, there might be, as there 
is now, within Christendom a general civilization, common 
to all — an one universal human civilization. History, we 
say, gives us no such universal civilization ; it gives us 
many distinct characteristic forms of civilization, the mani- 
festation of the life of the different individual nations or 
empires during certain periods. It gives us, when the de- 
tails are to be had, the rise, progress, decline, and final dis- 
appearance of certain human establishments ; and why is 
this so ? Why is it that no civilization is permanent, and 
blazes up, apparently, only soon to expire? Why is it that 
every form of civilization that ha§ hitherto existed has 
proved so ephemeral? Is this a necessity? does it belong 
to the constitution of human nature? is it one of its laws, 
or is it only accidental ? The presence of such a state of 
things, as an indisputable historic fact, has, in order to its 
explanation, led to the framing of various theories with re- 
spect to the nature of civilization. That, hitherto, all the 
forms of civilization have proved ephemeral is a fact, to 
which all history bears witness. But that this must always 
be the case, that it is a law of human nature, is not so evi- 
dent. It is true that all former civilizations have so far 
been ephemeral ; but may not some form of it — the one we 
now enjoy, for instance — may not this prove otherwise? 
May it not even be progressive ? and may it not in the end 
extend over and pervade the whole race ? Such a theory 
is certainly in direct opposition to the teachings of history : 
it is therefore highly improbable ; still, it is not impossible. 
It is certainly much more philosophical to generalize upon 
the facts of history, than, from an excess of sanguinity, to 
conclude in its teeth. And though we may be proud of our 



202 CIVILIZATION, AND (JeVIL-WOESHIP. 

> 

peculiar civilization, and think it vastly superior to any 
that has gone before, this is no argument for its permanency ; 
and still less, for its progressive prevalency. So far, then, 
as concerns history, the doctrine of a permanent and infin- 
itely progressive civilization is directly in antagonism with 
it. Such a theory cannot then emanate from history ; it 
must come from some other source. So far from account- 
ing for the facts of the past, it serves only to render them 
incomprehensible. It is certainly much more reasonable 
to conclude, that there is some reason, and a grave one, for 
all these previous failures, than thus carelessly to throw 
aside all these facts, and wildly to imagine, that now, it is 
going to be different. Why so ? why is it going to be so 
different this time ? The continued repetition of an event, 
ought to make us suspe(3t, that there is some reason, why this 
is so, and should lead us carefully to inquire into the mat- 
ter. And inasmuch as, such an historic phenomenon, has so 
far invariably presented itself, there must certainly be some 
deeply-seated reason for its existence. The theory of an 
infinitely progressive and expansive, and therefore of a 
permanent civilization, is not the one which can be used in 
explanation of the facts of history ; it ignores such facts, 
and therefore can give us no account of the principle which 
must lie at the root of such facts, as their cause. 

Other theories, start, with crediting these historic facts, 
and then attempt to account for them. They all take it for 
granted, that there is some real reason, w^hy civilization has 
so uniformly proved a failure ; any such theory is but the 
effort to formulate these reasons. The theory which con- 
siders the individual and the race as microcosm and macro- 
cosm, the stages in the individual life, being representative 
of those of the race ; which regards the nation as but an in- 
dividual on a large scale, and partaking of his ephemeral 
character. Such a theory, makes, the ephemeral nature of 



CIVILIZATION, AND (JeVIL-WORSHIP. 203 

civilization, inasmuch as it is but the manifestation of an 
individual life, essential to it. Thus, inasmuch as man is 
mortal, and in the end passes away, so with civilization ; 
each of its forms is individual, and subject to the same 
vicissitudes as is the individual person. Under this theory, 
the element of individuality, resides not in the race as a 
whole, but in particular nations or peoples. Each distinct 
nation, or people, is considered in the light of an individual 
existence, wdth features as distinctly marked as in the case 
of the individual personality ; as, in fact, a collective indi- 
vidual, and, like the person, is born, grows, for a while en- 
joys the estate of maturity, then begins to decline, grows 
old, dies, and is buried. Thus with any people, and so with 
its civilization. In its relation to civilization, the race can- 
not certainly, up to this time, be considered in its unity as 
an individual. There being no such fact as a common and 
universal civilization in history, this theory has not to ac- 
count for it, and does not undertake to. It deals only with 
such individualities as are to be found decidedly marked, 
in history. According, then, to this theory, the ephemeral 
character of all civilizations, is owing to a fundamental law 
which pertains to human nature, so far as it is national, — 
so far as it falls into various tribes, nations, families, or by 
whatever names we choose to call such distinct unities. 
Every such distinct section of humanity, subject to that 
modification induced by contact with others, that is, by the 
civilization common to every family of nations, — as those 
of Christendom, for instance, — subject to such a modifica- 
tion, which necessarily works more or less of an assimila- 
tion, according to this theory, every nation goes through 
certain stages of civilization ; and after reaching the high- 
est point which it is capable of attaining, declines. Each 
nation, like the individual, has its own characteristics, and 
these its civilization brings conspicuously out. Thus Egyp- 



204 CIVILIZATION, AND (1 EVIL- WORSHIP. 

tian civilization gives us agriculture and the mechanical 
arts. Greek civilization gives us philosophy and the fine 
arts. Eoman civilization presents, conspicuously, law, the 
principle of organization, or political solidarity. 

Another view of this subject, while it takes cognizance 
of the ephemeral nature of the civilizations of the past, 
imagines that" it can detect some order in such a succession 
of facts. It considers that in these various forms of civili- 
zation it can detect a movement ; as with the rising tides 
the successive weaves come up higher and higher upon the 
beach ; so with civilization, it is thought, each succeeding 
phase or form of it goes farther, and is more perfect than 
its predecessor. Thus, it is supposed, there is observable a 
gradual advance ; and though each particular form of civ- 
ilization, like every particular wave, must expend itself and 
then retire, yet, on the whole, there is an advance, and the 
next succeeding form will be a higher and a more perfect one 
than the preceding. This, like the preceding theory, recog- 
nizes that there is something in human nature which ren- 
ders civilization, in any given form, ephemeral. It acknowl- 
edges as an historic fact the evanescent nature of former 
phases of civilization, and undertakes to account for it; at 
the same time it would comfort itself w^ith the fancied assur- 
ance that it can detect something steady, an advance, in 
w^hat appears to others, to be but a series of dissolving 
views. As explanatory of this dissolving nature of former 
civilizations, it is, however, by this theory acknowledged, 
that there is something, some fundamental law in human 
nature, which renders all the former efforts at a long-lived 
and complete civilization thus abortive. 

According to both of these theories, it would seem to be 
the destiny of the human race to be forever begetting, but 
never to rear and bring to perfection any form of civiliza- 
tion ; to be ever aiming at the perfect, but never attaining 



CIVILIZATION, AND (JeVIL-WORSHIP. 205 

it ; to beget, only in order to bury. Is such the inevitable 
fate of all human civilizations ? Is this a necessity of hu- 
man nature ? if not, then wherefore is it ? True, the san- 
guine can easily cut this " Gordian knot." But how ? by 
ignoring the lessons of the past, and by wildly conjecturing 
that ours, the present civilization of the European family 
of nations, is to be perpetual ; that is, is not to vanish like 
those of former days, but is, on the contrary, continually to 
advance and to extend itself, until it include within its pale 
the utmost limits of the earth. If this be really so, then 
the difficulty is solved, and there is really nothing in human 
nature that withholds a perfect, universal, consummate civ- 
ilization. But that this is so, is yet to be proven. Judging^ 
from the past, to say the least of it, it is extremely doubtful. 
In fact, on other grounds, we feel ourselves fully warranted 
boldly to deny such a conclusion. None of the present 
forms of civilization, we feel authorized to say, can, from 
the very nature of the case, prove to be enduring ; like their 
antecedents, they will in the end, like them, dissolve and 
vanish away, to be in time succeeded by others, the same 
process to be repeated ad infinitum, until other principles 
than those now forming the basis of civilization shall come 
into action, and the kingdoms of this world shall become 
the kingdom of God's own Son. When righteousness and 
truth and mercy become the foundation of the social struc- 
ture ; when all the world shall learn to fear God and keep 
His commandments — all of which we have no reason to ex- 
pect to take place on this earth under its present economy, 
— then, and not until then, will civilization stand firm, ad- 
vance, going ever on to perfection, never retrograding or 
collapsing, as it now so invariably does. 

The true reason why every effort towards the realization 
of civilization has proven, up to this time, abortive ; why all 
of its forms have so inevitably collapsed, is, because the 
18 



206 CIVILIZATION, AND d EVIL- WORSHIP. 

kingdoms of this world are in reality the kingdoms of 
the devil ; because men worship and serve the devil rather 
than God ; because the social structure is built upon the 
rotten foundations of selfishness, injustice, and falsehood. 
It is because of this, its rotten foundation, that the social 
structure so repeatedly and so inevitably tumbles down. 
Remove this foundation, and substitute for it one which is 
of God, one of truth and of justice, and then the structure 
will stand. 

A final analysis of the reasons why all former civiliza- 
tions have collapsed, and why the present European civiliza- 
tion will in due time do so likewise, gives us idolatry. What 
is idolatry ? It is the worship of a false god. Again ; what 
is worship? It is not the mere outward bending of the 
knee, or the prostration of the body before some real or 
imaginary God. True worship is of the heart and Spirit ; 
it is the dedicating of one's self, the yielding up of body and 
soul, the devotion of all life's energies, to the service of any 
person or thing. The man who devotes all his energies 
to the service of another ; whose soul and body is rendered 
a living sacrifice to the will of another, worships him. 
Worship, ultimately, resides, not in acts, but in spirit; 
in devotion and surrender of self to another. " God is 
spirit," and " they that worship Him must worship Him in 
spirit." The surrender, then, of soul and body ; the devo- 
tion of all the energies of life in the service of a person, or 
towards the attainment of a thing, is to worship him, or it, 
as the case may be. Man can worship a thing as really as 
a person. In ancient times, idea-worship was unusual ; but 
now it is very general. Ideas are now very generally the 
god, or gods, of men ; and perhaps, in the course of time, 
they may undergo apotheosis, and give rise to a new hie- 
rarchy and cultus. The idea to which a man surrenders 
himself, soul and body, to the service of w4iich he devotes 



CIVILIZATION, AND (IeVIL-WORSHIP. 207 

all his energies, in order to its realization ; that idea is in 
reality that man's god ; he worships it in spirit, and perhaps 
in truth ; he offers himself a living sacrifice, holy or un- 
holy — according as the idea is good or bad — and accept- 
ably, in its service. That idea has become his god ; and 
that he shall in its service be degraded or elevated, saved 
or lost, depends entirely upon the nature of the idea so dei- 
fied. Polytheism is not a thing of the past, nor even the 
heathen gods. Because men do not recognize their idola- 
try, is no reason why it is not. Formerly, men had the 
habit of impersonating the objects of their worship ; thus 
they must become really conscious of what were the objects 
of their adoration. Every man no doubt had his own fa- 
vorite deity, and one that had already been constructed for 
him by previous worshippers of the same constitutional 
tendency with himself. Those with similar constitutional 
tendencies very naturally found themselves drawn towards 
the same gods, and thus naturally inclined to be fellow- 
worshippers. All revellers, very naturally, in a common 
fellowship, worshipped Bacchus ; the licentious, Venus ; the 
warlike. Mars, or Janus ; the lovers of the fine arts and of 
literature worshipped Apollo or Minerva, and the ambitious 
and proud, the great Jove. Polytheism is a very convenient 
religious system ; it permits of the reconciliation of God 
and Mammon ; and not only with Mammon, but with every 
other object w^hich proves attractive to human beings. 
Every man can, under such a system, choose his patron god; 
and while gratifying natural propensities, indulging, per- 
haps, in the most degrading pursuits, he can at the same 
time, and without inconsistency, have the satisfaction of 
thinking, that he is worshipping and serving his god. And 
this is the reason why idolatry proves such a terrible scourge 
to fallen humanity. First, men impersonate some idea, or 
some attractive object ; then making this formally the ob- 



208 CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL-WORSHIP. 

ject of their worship, under its sanction, as of a deity, they, 
in its service as worshippers, indulge often, their most 
beastly propensities. How otherwise can we account for 
the frequent bestiality of the heathen cultus ? only on this 
principle, that therein men and women certainly pretended, 
and we cannot but think, in fact believed, that by and in 
such practices, they were worshipping their gods. Heathen- 
ism is conscious idolatry, because the objects worshipped 
are called gods ; unblushingly, men have learned to call what 
they adore by its real name, and are not ashamed openly to 
worship such gods. With us, idolatry, though just as real, is 
yet unrecognized, as such. Men are actually worshipping 
false gods without knowing it. They have never recognized 
the fact to themselves. This idolatry being an unconscious 
one, is therefore less unblushing ; thus men, who in reality do 
worship Bacchus, Venus, or Mammon, are ashamed to own 
it to themselves, and still more so, to confess it to others. 
The worshippers of the gods of sensuality have now to keep 
their cultus in the background, for their gods are, for the 
present, under an interdict, though it may not be so always. 
The gods of heathenism, whose worship was most palpably 
degrading, though still not without hosts of worshi23pers, 
are for the present, as recognized deities, banished. But 
without them, still the number of present deities is ample. 
Our Pantheon is by no means empty ; and though we have 
no Roman Senate entrusted with the power of apotheosis, 
still we have gods sufficient and worshippers in abundance. 
Our idolatry, so far as it concerns its public recognition, 
has taken a less gross form than that formerly existing un- 
der Greek and Roman Polytheism. But here it must be 
observed, that just as each nation has its own peculiar 
genius and characteristics, so it has its own peculiar gods. 
Humanity has many things in common, so that, as a gen- 
eral rule, none of the gods are entirely alien to human 



CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL-WORSHIP. 209 

nature. The same fundamental tendencies beget the same 
wants, and therefore the same gods ; thus the very same god 
is to be found in different sections of the race, under a dif- 
ferent name. Ashtaroth of Judea is Astarte of Phoenicia, 
and the Venus of Greece and Rome ; and so of many others. 
The Roman empire — which was the world in microcosm- 
apprehending this fact, sagaciously received within its own 
Pantheon the deities of the nations which it conquered, 
and by law sanctioned the legitimacy of their divinities and 
of their cultus. But each nation has its characteristic 
points, and therefore its favorite or patron deities ; and the 
nature of such a hierarchy will inevitably correspond with, 
and therefore declare, the peculiar nature and characteristic 
points, of any particular people. Thus it can easily be as- 
certained from the cultus of any nation, which gives us a 
list of its favorite or patron deities, what are the peculiar ten- 
dencies and characteristics of such a people. Isis, the goddess 
of Egypt, and the whole cultus of her worship, proves the 
Egyptians to have been an agricultural and a mechanical 
people. The worship of Apollo, and of Minerva, the favorite 
deities of Greece, would designate that people as being the dis- 
ciples of philosophy and of the fine arts ; and that of Rome, 
though much more cosmopolitan — a fact which is charac- 
teristic of the peculiar genius of that nation — still the cul- 
tus of Rome, would doubtless, designate that nation, in 
accordance with the peculiar features of its genius. By 
applying the same principles to any people professedly idol- 
atrous, we might in turn gain similar information ; and thus 
we might arrive at a knowledge of the characteristics and 
peculiarities of any people. But when the nation is not 
openly idolatrous, the test is not so easily applied. Though 
it is not so self-evident, still it is not the less true, that each 
nation has some thing, or things, some idea, or ideas, god, 
or gods, — it matters not what we call it, or them, — which 
18* 



210 CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL-WORSHIP. 

it peculiarly loves and worships. And what a nation thus, 
as a whole, surrenders itself to, and exercises all of its ener- 
gies towards, in order towards its realization, that, we say, 
is the god ; or, if there be many such objects, the gods of 
such a people. " Covetousness,'' says St. Paul, " is idolatry." 
That is to say, the man who devotes himself, soul and body, 
to the pursuit of gain, is an idolater. Such an one, accord- 
ing to Christ's statement, is a worshipper of Mammon. Gain, 
wealth, material prosperity, progress — by whatever name 
we choose to call it — Mammon, a generic term, applicable 
to all such objects, is the god of such ; and the melancholy 
part of it is, that while the mammon worshipper is pampering 
this most formidable of modern lusts, covetousness, he is at 
the same time at liberty to comfort himself with the false 
assurance that he is serving the true God. And yet He, 
who ought to know, expressly says, " Ye cannot serve God 
and mammon." But whether such a man cares or not 
about this side of the question, still it stands a truth : he is 
certainly an idolater ; as much so, though not consciously, 
as is any heathen devotee. Mammon is his god ; and if he 
care about religion, he will convince himself, that in pan- 
dering to his covetousness, he is serving God ; which, in re- 
ality, he is doing, for his god is Mammon. To worship the 
true God, we must worship in spirit and in truth ; to wor- 
ship Mammon, we must do so in worldliness and falsehood. 
And since such a kind of worship is congenial to the nat- 
ural man, mammon-worship will inevitably be a popular 
one. The God of this age, certainly so far as concerns a 
large section of the European civilized family, is this same 
mammon ; which, in its turn, is but one of the delusive 
phantoms held up by the devil, just as it was presented to 
Christ in His temptations in the wilderness, as a reward for 
devil-worship. In worshipping it, we are in fact but wor- 
shipping the devil ; not consciously so, perhaps, but truly ; 



CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL-WOKSHIP. 211 

and as a consequence we shall reap the deviFs wages. Our 
boasted civilization, mushroom-like, will decay, as rapidly 
as it grew. The same causes which overthrew the civiliza- 
tions that are past, now operating disastrously within and 
upon the civilization of the present, unless some change 
takes place, — which is scarcely to be hoped for, — will in- 
evitably undermine, blast, and overthrow it ; and the time 
will come when future generations, looking backwards, will 
contemplate the now much vaunted civilization of the nine- 
teenth century as a thing that is then no more : just as we 
now reflect upon the vanished glory of Nineveh and Baby- 
lon, and Thebes and Memphis. 

The god or goddess of this age, and of this country in par- 
ticular, is " material prosperity ; " the name which she gen- 
erally goes by, is " progress ;'' and were we but as imaginative, 
religious, and aesthetic as were the ancient Greeks, we would, 
by this time, have had for her, a mythic name, a shrine, and 
a cultus. The French defied reason, and like the ancients, 
set up a woman to represent it. We have not yet proceeded 
so far ; but we, just as really, worship something that is not 
the true God. Material progress, with us, takes the place 
of the French goddess of Eeason ; and perhaps even now, 
some artist, in the quiet of his studio, is conceiving the form 
which our future goddess is to take, in marble. Polytheism 
is by no means a thing of the past, it exists now in full force 
in lands calling themselves Christian. The Roman Church, 
in reality now worships a goddess, together with a host of 
other lesser saint deities. Each religious order, and most 
individuals within that Church, have their patron saints. 
The Virgin Mary is the god, or rather goddess, that the Ro- 
man Church now most generally worships, a fact proven by 
the present cultus of that religion, and apparent in the cus- 
tom now become universal among the Romanists of address- 
ing their prayers, not to God but to her. The Archbishop 



212 CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL-WORSHIP. 

of Paris, with a number of his priests, so cruelly murdered 
under the insurrection of the Commune, just before their 
execution, addressed themselves in solemn prayer — to 
whom ? Not to God ; not to Jesus Christ ; but to the Vir- 
gin Mary. The religion of such a society is not Christian, 
but Marian — their religion is properly that idolatry, now 
known as Mariolatry. 

Comte, as we have shown, designs to revive the w^orship 
of the goddesses, especially that of Venus. In England, and 
even more so here in America, a so-called Christian land, we 
Protestants, can be convicted of a similar design. True, we 
do not formally proclaim our idolatry ; we do not, as the 
French once did, openly revolt against Christianity, and 
set up a goddess of Reason ; but practically we are guilty 
of the same thing. On the one hand, we have a theoretical 
God, whom we profess to worship, and so we build churches 
and go to church, and perhaps profess Christianity. Pro- 
fessing ourselves Christians, we undertake to sustain a Chris- 
tian cultus, and some of us perform our parts. But on the 
other hand, the great mass of society has a real practical 
deity whom they do in reality worship, and serve, with all 
their minds and soul and strength, — a deity to whom they 
devote all their energies, surrendering themselves in this 
service a willing sacrifice. There is a theoretical God which 
society professes to w^orship ; there is a practical God, v/hom 
the mass of society does worship. A man's real God is the 
object to which he devotes his whole life. That which he 
loves and serves with all his soul and mind and strength. 
It matters not what that object is, whether it be imperson- 
ated, as under the Pagan mythology, in the form of a god 
or goddess ; or whether it be of the nature of an idea, as it 
now is, in the doctrine of " progress.'' The thing w^hich 
man bows down to and v/orships, is in reality, his God. This 
distinction between the theoretical and the practical, is very 



CIVILIZATION, AND (IeVIL-WORSHIP. 213 

general, and seems to belong to most, if not to all religions. 
Examine them, and you will find that behind all the lesser 
and even greater deities, there is still one, the great Unknown, 
the 'Ov of Plato ; the Abyss ; the Darkness, or the Light of 
Orientalism ; the Absolute and Unconditioned of Transcen- 
dentalism ; the Nihil of Buddhism ; — this, the absolute, the 
infinite, the unknown, the ultimate deity, is to be found 
within all religions. And under Christianity, though not 
exactly under the same form, this same distinction is to be 
found. The Triune God of Christianity is at its basis ; but 
He may not be, and very often is not, the prime object of 
worship. It is the lesser deities which attract and absorb the 
worship of the mass. The Komanist worships the Virgin 
Mary and the Saints. The Protestant, too, has many lords 
and gods, and although his idolatry is not as formal, it is 
just as real, as the Pagan and the Romish. The deity of the 
present age, especially of this country, is what ? Evidently, 
material prosperity, or progress. And every man who is 
making money, or railroads ; who is laying telegraph wires, 
or who is fabricating scientific theories, or making scientific 
discoveries of a practical tendency ; all whose whole souls 
and bodies are given up to the pursuit of the practical and 
the material, are idolaters. Instead of worshipping and serv- 
ing the true and living God, they are worshipping but a 
phantasm, conjured up by the devil ; a lie presented by him, 
to be the object of worship for this nineteenth century. To 
devote one's whole life, soul and body, to any earthly object, 
is to make it an idol ; thus, the gratification of one's ruling 
passion, will ever constitute man an idolater, his god being 
the creature object to which such passion points ; yet a man 
may be the slave of his lusts, or tendencies, and yet not an 
idolater. He may be in a state of bondage to sin, without 
being an idolater. Such is the natural condition of the great 
mass of the race. Idolatry, is a position or attitude of the 



211 CIVILIZATION, AND (JeVIL-WORSHIP. 

soul ; it consists in, substituting something in the place of 
God, — "a lie," — as the Apostle Paul calls it ; in the 
" changing of the truth of God into a lie, and worshipping 
and serving the creature rather than the Creator." The 
substitution of a false idea in the place of the true God, and 
then worshipping and serving it, rather than the true God, 
is idolatry. When this is done formally and openly, as it 
was under Paganism, in the worship of the gods and god- 
desses, and as it is, now^, within the Roman Church ; — then 
it is palpable, formal idolatry. But when, as with us, an 
object, material progress, which happens to be at present the 
popular object of worship, when, as in this case, an object is 
firmly planted in the public consciousness and occupying 
the place of God, is really worshipped and served ; here, 
too, we have an idolatry, not less real than the former, though 
not publicly declaring itself as such. Now, inasmuch as 
anything that is not the true God, substituted for Him, as 
an object of worship, is therein a lie and a false god ; it fol- 
lows, that in worshij^ping it, we are in reality, surrendering 
ourselves to a lie, devoting ourselves to its service. And the 
truth of this fact is not altered, even should the object thus 
substituted for God be a good one. It is the fact of its being 
a substitution for God, and not Himself, that makes it a lie. 
Nothing can take the place of the true and living God ; any 
object, no matter how grand and how good it may be ; as a 
substitute for God, is a delusion and a lie ; and the worship 
of any such object will in the end plunge the worshippers 
down into the abyss. The French, proposed, as the real ob- 
ject of their worship, seemingly, a good one ; for surely "lib- 
erty, fraternity, and equality," sounds well enough, but what 
was the consequence ? — evidently, a plunge into the abyss. 
Material progress and prosperity, sounds grandly, perhaps ; 
it seems to be broad and deep, and under some aspects it 
appears to be a good object; but in the end it will land, or 



CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL- WORSHIP. 215 

rather plunge us, for there is no bottom to it, into that same 
abyss, into which this, like all other such lies, tends to pre- 
cipitate men ; and then when it is too late, they will find out 
what it is to worship the false. No object, however grand 
and good it may appear to us ; no such object can supply to 
the soul the place of the true and living God ; therefore they 
are all lies, as the Apostle tells us, and, of the devil, who is 
the father of such, and all other lies. Thus, it happens, that 
in worshipping these lies of the devil, incidentally, we wor- 
ship him. Thus, we find ourselves, in this boasted nine- 
teenth century, still idolaters, nay, devil-worshippers ; and 
therefore our civilization, like ail former civilizations, will 
inevitably collapse and prove a delusion. Lies are, after all, 
hollow, having no substance, and the civilization w^hich is 
built upon such a foundation, must inevitably come to ruin. 
The lie which the present age, and especially this country, 
has set up, as its deity, is, we say, " material progress," and 
inasmuch, as such an idol, is, by nature, generic, it becomes 
for man, a most convenient object of worship. Every man 
can adopt that form of worship which seems to him best ; 
that is to say, he can suit himself, follow his own natural 
inclination ; he can devote himself to the acquisition of 
v/ealth or power, or of fame, or to the service of any other 
object which the natural man craves, and at the same time, 
he can have the satisfaction of believing, that he is w^orship- 
ping, and serving faithfully, his God. Thus, under such a 
religious system, it has become perfectly practicable to serve 
at the same time God and mammon. An antagonism, which, 
under true Christianity, as taught by its founder, is absolute, 
has thus been reconciled ; and very easily, for mammon has 
become God. It is natural enough that men should become 
enthusiastic under such a religion ; that they should enter 
into the service of this nineteenth-century God — Mam- 
mon — with the spirit of a most fervent devotion. Men are 



216 CIVILIZATION, AND cIeVIL-WORSHIP. 

naturally fond of money-making ; will work faithfully to 
obtain wealth, notoriety, and any kind of fame ; and when 
these and other objects of a similar character, all included 
within the sphere of the carnal and of the worldly ; when 
such objects become consecrated as religions; when it is 
thought that in this indulging self, and sacrificing to the 
human lusts, we are truly worshipping God ; when such a 
service becomes in fact the cultus of a religion, the orthodox 
way in which God (that is this lie-god) is to be worshipped; 
then surely, we have fallen into a most fatal form of idolatry, 
from which we will yet find it hard to recover ourselves. 
Evidently, such a religion will be popular ; and the religious 
life, which means a life of worldliness, will become the 
fashion of the day. Necessarily, the devotees, of such a re- 
ligious system, become its saints ; therefore the more covetous 
the man ; the harder he works in the service of Mammon, 
the greater his sanctity. The saints of this age, within the 
pale of this religion, are those who have devoted themselves, 
soul and body, to advance the material interests of society. 
They are the men who are engaged in amassing wealth ; the 
men who construct railroads and telegraph lines ; the men 
who subdue nature, and advance material progress generally. 
Teachers, inasmuch as they are instrumental in assisting the 
march of progress, by instructing the public, they too, are 
allowed to take rank, upon the calendar, with the other saints 
of progress. And the scientists, those of them who are in- 
strumental in destroying former religious creeds, and in so 
doing, are gloriously liberating the race from the fetters of 
superstition, they, as highly instrumental in bringing in the 
millennium, are of the very chiefest of the saints ; nay, they 
are the very apostles of this new god. They stand first upon 
the calendar. All these worthies, as being instrumental, in 
advancing the material interests of mankind, having de- 
voted themselves to the service of this idol, soul and body ; 



CIVILIZATION, AND dfiVIL- WORSHIP. 217 

all these, as the devoted worshippers of our nineteenth-cen- 
tury goddess, stand forward, as the saints of the present era. 
The fact is, without our being aware of it, a new religion 
has been established in our midst. In the very midst of 
Christendom idolatry has been revived ; a new goddess- has 
been set up ; and the spirit of this age, our Nebuchadnezzar, 
is calling upon all of us, requiring of all, that at the sound 
of cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer, and other 
kinds of music, we should fall down and worship it ; and 
from all appearance it would seem, that the time is not very 
far off, when, if we refuse to comply with these demands, we 
shall, like the recusants of old, be cast into some burning 
fiery furnace; for the self-asserting dogmatism, of this new 
religion, is steadily increasing ; already it will scarcely per- 
mit contradiction. Before we were aware of it, a nev>^ re- 
ligion has become established in our very midst, w^hose cultus 
is now rapidly maturing. Its hierarchy already exists ; and 
as we have said, it promises to be a very despotic one. All 
that we want, now, is, some Comte, who, with his organizing 
genius, should bring this new religion into order. Comte, 
perhaps, w^as premature in France, or he may have misin- 
terpreted the wants of French society ; perhaps it w^as not 
yet prepared to receive the goddess of Humanity. But any 
one can see, that our society, is ready for the organization of 
a new system of religion. All the elements are prepared. 
First there is its spirit ; its enthusiasm, directed towards one 
particular object ; then there is the principle, its sacerdotal- 
ism, already prepared ; only waiting, the Hierarchical organ- 
ization which is to arise out of it, and is to embody it. The 
principle of sacerdotalism is, what ? — evidently, veneration, 
admiration, w^orship, and bondage to a class of men, a caste. 
All this is at hand ; nay, more ; the Hierarchy is really in 
existence, only waiting to be formally installed ; when it will 
be formally recognized, as such. Moreover, the mode of 
19 



218 CIVILIZATION, AND (JeVIL- WORSHIP. 

worship, the cultus of this religion, is already in existence ; 
devotion of the life to material progress, is now, a fact. It 
only needs its ritual, to make it the regular ceremonial, of 
such a religion. A large portion of society, even now, stands 
prepared, to serve this goddess in such a way. All that is 
wanting, is the formal organization of these elements which 
are already facts ; the reducing of them into the shape of a 
system ; thus bringing them out before the public conscious- 
ness. Things may exist, long before they are consciously 
known, to exist ; it requires that some man should arise ; 
take hold of these elements, and present them before the 
public mind by means of the " word," before they will be 
recognized as existing, and be acknowledged. 

Every religion, in order to its successful establishment, 
requires such antecedent conditions. The founder of a new 
religion, must be one, who either instinctively takes advan- 
tage of such conditions ; or he may be one who acts with the 
consciousness of what he is doing ; a man who perceives 
that the elements of a new order of things is at hand. 
Seizing upon the present, he appropriates what he finds 
already prepared ; organizes it into a system ; and then pro- 
pounds it to others. A species of crystallization at once 
takes place ; and a new religious system becomes formally 
established. Thus, doubtless, it was with Buddhism ; which 
was, really, the reformation of Brahminism. Thus, too, it 
was in the case of Islamism, the religion of Mahomet ; and 
thus to a certain extent it was even in the case of Christi- 
anity ; and thus, more lately, it was with the Reformation. 
None of these movements were extemporaneous: the ele- 
ments out of which they were constituted, were in prepara- 
tion, long before any of these systems, as such, were for- 
mally propounded. When the time came for the movement, 
the materials being all ready, nought was required save the 
master-mind and hand to reduce to order, and to give them, 



CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL-WORSHIP. 219 

as enunciated, a formal and a systematic consistency. 
Comte, who in modern times, within the pale of Christian- 
ity, essayed to found a new religion, seems to have mistaken 
the signs of his times. But it looks as though a similar 
movement to that which seems to have failed in France 
might prove more successful here, and now. Change the 
object of worship, and make it material progress instead of 
woman ; take humanity as progressive, and perhaps even 
yet, this new religion might beeome an establishment, among 
us. Such a religious system appears, to us, to be just as 
fiiUy adapted to the present state of society as was Islam to 
the fanatical Arabs ; as was Buddhism to the speculative 
mind of Orientalism ; or as the papal sacerdotal system was, 
to the barbarous ferocity and superstition of the Middle 
Ages. 

This substitution, of the idol of material progress, in the 
place of the true and living God, very naturally begets, 
Pantheism. So long as society holds, even theoretically, to 
the God of Revelation, this transition is formally withheld. 
As long as this is the case, society is still, in theory. Chris- 
tian ; but only theoretically so ; for if, in fact, materialism 
be really worshipped, then society, though not in name, is 
in reality. Pantheistic ; and though it never come out boldly 
and renounce the God of Revelation ; still it really worships 
some other god ; it has in fact fallen from the faith, and 
ceased to be Christian ; and when the object of worship is 
one like the present, a mere abstraction, a result, an idea, a 
phantasm, depending upon man's own exertions in order to 
its realization ; inevitably, the religion of such a society be- 
comes, has already become, Pantheistic. Material progress 
is man's own creature ; it is something which he himself is 
to create : in worshipping such a god, man worships the 
creature rather than the creator. Moreover, the natural 
result of such a Pantheistic idolatry, is, that man ceases to 



220 CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL-WORSHIP. * 

be humble ; he becomes proud and self-sufficient ; and neces- 
sarily so, for such is the character necessary, in order that 
he may be able to worship, his god. If material progress be 
the object to which one has devoted all the energies of his 
life ; then evidently, self-reliance and self-sufficiency become 
a virtue ; and therefore it is that this class of idolaters are 
so eternally harping upon the duty and glorious virtue of 
self-reliance. 

A comparison of the sayings and teachings of the apos- 
tles of this new religion with those of the apostles of Chris- 
tianity, will at once show, how directly antagonistic, the two 
religions are. Compare Emerson with the Apostle Paul, 
and observe the contrast. The one exalts, the other pulls 
down; the one teaches, rely upon yourself; every man is 
self-sufficient, sufficient for all things ; man is God : St. Paul 
says, " Of mine own self I can do nothing ; the life which I 
now live I live by the faith of the Son of God." " Be 
clothed with humility," adds St. Peter, " for God resisteth 
the proud, but giveth grace to the humble." And this 
same contrast is observable in the utterances of all the 
priests of this religion as compared with those of the apos- 
tles of Christianity. Under the one system, pride, egotism, 
and vanity are applauded, encouraged, and openly advo- 
cated as virtues. Under the other, the Christian system, these 
so-called virtues are to be crucified, as lusts and affections of 
the mind, and of the flesh. Instead of pride and self-suffi- 
ciency, humility and self-distrust are steadily advocated. Of 
course it is but to be expected, that when man worships his 
own imagined destiny, he will soon learn to glorify himself. 
The Pantheism, essentially associated with such a system, 
must in the end inevitably crop out, and manifest itself. To 
worship the future of the race ; a glorious future, a humanity ; 
is in the end, but to adore self; thus humanity, and conse- 
quently, self, becomes God. God is self; which, as such, is 



CIVILIZATION, AND (JeVIL-WORSHIP. 221 

to be adored, glorified, and worshipped. Hence, all those 
vain, self-glorifying. Pantheistic maxims of this new Hie- 
rarchy. 

The worship of the goddess Utopia, is not a new thing in 
the annals of humanity ; but up to this time it has never 
succeeded in actually establishing itself within the con- 
sciousness of any age. There have been, previously, various 
theories, social and religious, enunciated, which proposed to 
bring in a social millennium. The " Atlantis " of Plato is 
a theory which proposes such an end : the model republic 
therein delineated, is the Platonic realization of such an 
idea. In England, More and Shelley and Robert Owen are 
the most conspicuous among the apostles of Utopia. In 
France, a soil fruitful in social theories, there are Babeuf, 
St. Simon, and Fourier, and lastly Comte, conspicuous as 
Utopian philosophers. None of these systems has, how- 
ever, to any extent proved successful. The number of dis- 
ciples which even the most successful of them has succeeded 
in enlisting was too small. None of them has succeeded, on 
any large scale, in becoming formally established. Under 
all these systems it is laid down as a first principle, that the 
present miserable condition of human society, is owing to its 
imperfect and unjust present social organization. Shelley 
goes still further, and denounces religion — even the Chris- 
tian — as being responsible, for the present acknowledged 
miserable state of society. He teaches, that religion is hostile 
to tlte development of the '' feelings of charity and frater- 
nity ; " and, moreover, that " if the inherent goodness of the 
human heart was but free to work out its mission, the 
golden age would be realized." All such theorists take for 
granted the inherent goodness, and the consequent perfec- 
tibility of human nature. Some, like Shelley, think ; only 
abolish all religion, and this inherent goodness of the hu- 
man heart will realize the millennium. Others disapprove 
19* 



222 CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL-WORSHIP. 

only of the present religion, and recommend some other ; 
which, as under the French schools, will generally be found 
to be some form of Pantheism. But society does not ap- 
pear to have been captivated, to any great extent, by any 
of these systems ; the public enthusiasm could not be ex- 
cited. The Utopias which were held up for public worship, 
were generally regarded, as impracticable ; and therefore few 
could be found, who, to try the experiment, would adopt 
the means by which the proposed end was to be realized. 
All of these systems, in what they demanded of society, 
were unnatural. True, they might benefit the poor ; but 
of the rich they required self-sacrifice ; they required the 
powerful to surrender their power, and the rich to give up 
their wealth and social position, so that all possessions 
should be in common and all men equal ; at least such is 
the inherent tendency of all these systems, although some 
of them sought to authorize certain inequalities. All of 
them, however, must end, in bringing about such a state of 
equality ; a movement of this kind, once begun, cannot be 
checked midway. Therefore they have all proved, failures. 
But the Utopia which society now worships, requires no 
such self-sacrifice in order to its realization. It is a much 
more convenient system ; and is at the same time a religion. 
Like the theory of Shelley, it demands, that we should give 
up all our former religious beliefs ; with him, we are to con- 
clude, that religious fear is the mother of all our woes — 
which perhaps is not without some show of truth ; a prin- 
ciple which, however, even Shelleyism itself, is powerless to 
combat and to dispel. It requires us to suppress this fear, 
if that be possible ; to dethrone from our hearts the God 
of Revelation, and to enthrone in His place either self, hu- 
manity, or the Utopia of an indefinite material progress. 
If we be capable of the supreme egotism of the school of 
Emerson, we can worship self; but if not so supremely 



CIVILIZATION, AND cIeVIL-WORSHIP. 223 

egotistic, self-poised, and self-contained, we can adopt for 
our deity, either humanity, or the Utopia of a future and 
worldly millennium. The worship of such a trinity is, 
in fact, that of a unity ; the three are but different forms 
of a Pantheistic unity. To worship either of these objects 
amounts to self-deification, and to losing sight of the true, 
living God. It is, therefore, " the changing of the truth 
of God into a lie, and worshipping and serving the creature 
rather than the Creator." And since all such lies are of the 
devil ; indirectly, it is a worship of the devil — a species of 
idolatry known as devil-worship. The manner of such a 
worship being exceedingly connatural with the constitu- 
tional tendencies of the natural man, is naturally popular. 
To be religious under such a system, and to worship such a 
God, requires nothing more, than, to be one's self; to follow 
one's ow^n constitutional tendencies ; and while this is the 
morality of such a system, it is at the same time its legiti- 
mate manner of worship. Thus, in being one's self, we are 
at the same time moral and religious ; we are at the same 
time doing our duty and serving God. Let, then, the man 
who loves money, Avork hard for it ; the love of money is 
not the root of all evil ; no ! that is an old-fashioned, an 
exploded notion ; on the contrary, wealth is power, — it ad- 
vances civilization, it hastens on the millennium ; work on, 
then, good and faithful servant, and press with vigor on ; 
a heavenly race demands thy zeal, and an immortal crown. 
No! covetousness, the mortal enemy of this age, is not 
idolatry ; it is a noble impulse : slave on, then, men of the 
nineteenth century ; sate your covetousness ; but know 
that for all these things God shall bring you into judg- 
ment. And the same principle applies to all worldly and 
material pursuits ; inasmuch as they belong to the service 
of the goddess Utopia, they all are consecrated, and re- 
garded holy. Thus the men who, while incidentally en- 



224 CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL-WORSHIP. 

gaged in advancing humanity, are at th^ same time instru- 
mental in brushing away " the cobwebs of superstition ; " 
they verily are worthy of double honor — they are the very 
apostles and high-priests of Utopianism. At present, this 
place of honor, the van of civilization, is assigned to the 
corps of scientists ; these, together with certain philosophers, 
who, like Carlyle and Emerson, boldly, with fell sweep of 
their infidel besoms — satisfactorily to themselves, and un- 
fortunately, also to many others — seem forever to have 
brushed away " the cobwebs of old Jewish superstition ; " 
this class of philosophers, together with those scientists who, 
indirectly at first, but who, every day, more and more 
boldly endeavor to undermine and overthrow our present 
religious system, — these form the Hierarchy of this, our 
modern system of idolatry ; these constitute that sacerdotal 
caste peculiar to the new religion of Utopianism. And this 
hierarchy promises to be as despotic and tyrannical as any 
that has preceded it. St. Simon divides society into three 
classes — the sages, the artists, and the workmen. Comte 
has some such similar arrangement. St. Simon abolishes 
the present Church and State organizations, and installs a 
sacerdotal caste of sages in their place. Thus the sages be- 
come the sacerdotal hierarchy, and at the same time the 
magistracy in the State. What St. Simon could not effect, is 
already with us, so far as concerns religion, a fact. The sages 
are now in our society, a sacerdotal caste, constituting the 
hierarchy of the religion of Utopia. They are now the 
recognized mediators between the goddess and her worship- 
pers ; her recognized oracles — their utterances being re- 
ceived as the very word of truth. The British Eoyal Soci- 
ety has verily, in these last days, become the school of the 
prophets. 

All religions are, in their final analysis, subject to a cer- 
tain triplicity of arrangement. First, there is the object 



CIVILIZATION, AND cIeVIL-WORSHIP. 225 

of worship, the God of the religion ; secondly, there is the 
sacerdotal order, the priesthood ; and, thirdly, there is the 
people, or worshippers. And so with this Utopianism : 
first there is Utopia, material progress, humanity, or self — ■ 
a trinity and yet a unity — the goddess of this new^ religion; 
then there are the infidel philosophers and scientists, w^ho con- 
stitute the sacerdotal order and the hierarchy of the society; 
and lastly, there are all those who are believers in these 
priests, and who are enthusiastic in their belief of the speedy 
advent "of human perfectibility. Not, however, after a 
Christian manner, for these worshippers are widely dififerent 
from the Christian millenarians ; they believe not in the 
Christian, but in an essentially worldly and material millen- 
nium ; not that it is to be brought about by the advent of 
Jesus Christ ; but that man, in himself, in the strength of 
his own self-sufiiciency, is to perfect himself, and is to se- 
cure for the race a perfect, an enduring, eternal civiliza- 
tion. These are the lay people, the worshippers of the god- 
dess Utopia. So that, as a fact, this organization already 
exists ; only, as yet, it has not been formally established. 

In determining w^ho are the worshippers of material pro- 
gress, a classification becomes necessary. At present, the 
whole mass of society would at first sight appear to fall 
within such a category. The belief in progress, that is, that 
our present civilization, while it continues to become more 
perfect, will at the same time extend, and so finally come 
to include within its pale all mankind : this belief, seems at 
present to pervade the whole body of our society. But 
within this generic division there are difiering species ; and 
only one of them constitutes what is properly the worship- 
pers of " material progress." Thus there are many classes, 
who, in this respect, appear to symbolize harmoniously, and 
yet who do in reality widely dififer. There are some who 
believe that civilization is the result of Christianity ; and 

P 



226 CIVILIZATION, AND (JeVIL-WOESHIP. 

who at the same time are persuaded that the Scriptures 
teach that Christianity is like leaven, which a woman took 
and hid in a measure of meal, until the whole was leavened ; 
or, that it is like the mustard-seed, which, " although the 
least of seeds, when it is grown, is the greatest of herbs, 
spreading abroad that the birds of the air can lodge in it." 
All this, they understand, as being applicable to civilization ; 
and hence conclude that the Scriptures foretell a final, uni- 
versal, and enduring civilization. Hence, they are believ- 
ers in some kind of future millennium which is to be estab- 
lished upon this earth. Thus they can sympathize with all 
who believe in a future millennium to be on this earth. Noth- 
ing more, under such a system, is required, but the continued 
action of the forces which are now operating within society, 
and the propagation of Christianity among those nations 
which are now without its pale. Under this system, it is 
taken for granted, that civilization — at least, any high and 
progressive order of it — is the result of Christianity. All 
the philosophic Christians of the age fall within this class ; 
and perhaps the larger portion of Christian society has im- 
bibed this doctrine. These, however, are not the real wor- 
shippers of material progress — although there is, it must 
be confessed, great danger of their becoming so ; for it is 
very easy to slide from the one position into the other, and 
the intoxication consequent upon such excessive sanguinity 
is very apt to degrade and involve such Christians in the 
element of worldliness. It is not without reason that the 
Apostles invariably direct the attention of believers to the 
far beyond. Christ never buoys up his disciples with pic- 
tures of success in this world ; " in the world," He says, 
" ye shall have tribulation ; " it is those who mourn, who 
are persecuted for righteousness' sake, that are the blessed. 
" Watch," He says, " for ye know not what hour your Lord 
doth come." The attention of the Christian, is, under the 



CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL-WORSHIP. 227 

Christian system, invariably directed, towards another 
economy ; to the resurrection of the dead, and to the second 
coming of Christ to Judgment ; " denying ungodliness and 
worldly lusts," we are commanded " to live soberly, right- 
eously, and godly in this present world, looking for that 
blessed hope and the glorious appearing of the great God 
and our Saviour Jesus Christ." Such is the object towards 
which the Christian is instructed to direct his attention. 
He is a man of hope, a stranger and sojourner upon this 
earth ; he is to seek first the kingdom of God and His 
righteousness, to consider the fowls of the air and the lilies 
of the field, to follow their example ; he is to take no 
thought for the morrow, and is not, like the Gentiles — the 
formula for an ungodly world — to consume his soul with a 
carking care for the earthly. He is to be waiting for the 
second coming of his Lord, anxious for it, that he may by 
any means attain to the resurrection of the just. If any 
one ever had the right to draw comfort from a future tri- 
umph of Christianity, and that rehabilitation of the earth, — 
which some seem to expect, — surely St. Paul ought to have 
been that man. But he it is that tells us, that " in the last 
days perilous times shall come." All the Apostles, without 
exception, never allude to such a future as towards a source 
of comfort ; all point steadily to the two great future his- 
toric facts, the second coming of Christ and the resurrection 
of the dead. And St. Paul goes so far as to represent the 
whole creation as groaning and travailing in pain together 
until now, " waiting for " — what ? a consummate civiliza- 
tion ? . No I " for the redemption of the body ; " for this 
future resurrection, as being " the manifestation of the sons 
of God." The meaning of all this is plain, — it is to pre- 
serve us from this very worldliness and earthliness and 
sensuality in which the great mass of Christian society is 
now so immersed ; an element which brings Christians into 



228 CIVILTZATIONj AND (JeVIL- WORSHIP. 

harmony with those who are in reality infidels, believing 
neither in a second advent of our Saviour, nor in the resur- 
rection of the dead. Another class of Christians there is, 
who believe, too, in a future earthly millennium ; but w4io 
think that the Scriptures teach that this will be brought 
about in some miraculous way; by the descent of Christ in 
human form upon the earth — upon Mount Olivet, as it is 
generally put ; that He will establish himself at Jerusalem, 
and in some wonderful way ; through the instrumentality of 
the Jew^s, — who are to be then converted to Christianity, — 
He is to reduce the whole, then existing world to obedience 
to Him. This system is, necessarily, much involved and 
obscure ; but, inasmuch as it expects a millennium to be on 
this earth, men being supposed to retain their present phys- 
ical, moral, and political constitutions, it seems to harmon- 
ize with the infidel Utopian system, and causes its advocates 
to appear to belong to the religion of Utopianism. 

These two classes of Christians, both holding to some form 
of perfectibility to be at some future time realized upon 
this earth ; the one, that it is to be brought about naturally, 
through the same agencies that are now at w^ork all around 
us ; the other, that this future state is to be brought about 
through preternatural agencies; both these schools, the 
natural and supernatural Millenarians — both appear to be 
in harmony wdth the infidel school of material progress; 
they appear to join in the same shout, and are, in fact, in 
great danger of harmonizing with these idolaters of mate- 
rial progress, and of becoming intoxicated with the enthu- 
siasm of this false religion. Thus, it happens that these Chris- 
tians, those especially of the first class, find themselves frater- 
nizing wdtli infidels ; and yet they know not how and why it 
is ; and when the one shouts progress, they on their own prin- 
ciples cannot but say. Amen. Thus, they find it impracti- 
cable, to separate themselves from an infidel society ; and are 



civilization/ and dEVIL-WORSHIP. 229 

often found aiding and abetting, in what is in reality, an in- 
fidel movement, springing from infidel principles. Not all, 
then, who would seem to participate in this infidel enthu- 
siasm and movement, are of it ; still they are in it, and it is 
time that they should recognize this fact, and at once come 
out of it, lest they be consumed with it. 

The reason w^hy the Church appears to be going on so 
smoothly at present is, because in reality, it fails to encoun- 
ter the spirit of the world. The world does not hate and 
persecute, because it meets with no opposition. Instead of 
boldly making a stand, and challenging the spirit of infi- 
delity, rationalism, and worldliness, which is the spirit of 
this age ; the Church, that is, those who represent it and 
ought to exhibit its spirit, almost universally, so far from 
opposing it, fraternize with it, flatter it, and, melancholy to 
say, imbibe it and become one w^ith it. The spirit of the 
world is essentially antagonistic with, and hostile to, the 
spirit of Christianity. When we see the two in apparent 
harmony, there is danger ; it is a bad sign ; it shows that the 
Church is succumbing to the world. The spirit of Chris- 
tianity is absolute devotion ; the entire surrender of soul and 
body to Christ and to God ; the worship of the true God in 
spirit and in truth. The spirit of the world, in man, be- 
comes devotion to some worldly object; it is the worship of 
the world, an idol ; a lie therefore, and so, incidentally, of 
the devil. " If any man love the world, the love of the 
Father is not in him." " No man can serve two masters, 
for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he 
will hold to the one and despise the other. Ye cannot serve 
God and mammon." Such is the dilemma, in which, accord- 
ing to the w^ord of God, man must ever find himself placed. 
World- worship is in any and every one of its forms incon- 
sistent with the worship of the true God. Such an idolatry 
may exist at different times under different forms. In the 
20 



230 CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL-WORSHIP. 

heathen world it exists as Polytheism ; the patron gods of 
any people manifesting the direction which such world-wor- 
ship has taken in that particular case. Under Christianity, 
world -worship has at different times assumed different 
phases ; and now in this age, and with us, it manifests itself 
under the form of material progress, or in the worship of 
humanity. Thus the age is, in fact, idolatrous, not wor- 
shipping the God of Revelation, but a mere phantasm, a 
lie ; inasmuch as it is not the true and living God ; more- 
over, as it happens in this age, it is essentially so. The men 
of this age imagine that by means of education and science 
they can perpetuate, extend, and perfect their present civil- 
ization ; and infatuated with this notion, enthusiastically they 
worship it, devoting all their energies to its realization. Such 
a religion and worship, inasmuch as it accords exactly with 
the constitutional tendencies of the natural man, is con- 
venient and necessarily popular. It allows man to gratify 
his natural inclinations ; to immerse himself in worldliness, or 
even sensuality, and to comfort himself with the gratifying 
assurance that in so doing, he is at the same time serving 
God ; and to feel and believe tH^t he is one of " God's noble 
army of workers," according to the cant of the day. Evi- 
dently, such a religion is adapted, to the constitution of the 
natural man. Consistently with such a creed the men of 
this age imagine that of themselves, in their own strength, 
they can realize that idea, which they thus worship. But 
the impossibility of ever realizing such an idea lies, just in 
that men do so worship it. It is this very idolatry ; this wor- 
ship of a lie ; of the creature, rather than the Creator, that 
renders the realization of this idea a hopeless impossibility. 
Up to this time lie-worship has proved the bane of hu- 
manity ; it is what has ever made civilization a failure ; and 
it will continue most certainly to have the same effect. 
Why should it not ? The civilization which is built upon 



CIVILIZATION, AND d EVIL- WORSHIP. 231 

such a sorry foundation must inevitably sooner, or later, col- 
lapse ; its foundation is rotten ; it carries its death within 
itself; therefore, it is doomed. 

Civilization, is not correctly, the result of Christianity ; 
nor of any other religion. It is a product of human nature 
considered as a whole ; the result of all the forces operating 
within and upon society, in the direction of man's develop- 
ment. But on the other hand, civilization is vitally con- 
nected with religion ; it is impossible without some form of 
religion ; and the more truth there is in any religion, the 
greater the opportunity for the successful realization of any 
civilization. A perpetual, and ever advancing civilization, 
is possible, only under certain conditions. These are, that 
man should give up all idolatry and surrender himself, soul 
and body, to the worship and service of God as revealed in 
and by Jesus Christ. Should the whole race ever do this, 
it is quite supposable, that a civilization thus sustained 
should continue ever to advance ; and so man would find 
himself every year constantly nearing that perfection which 
he so fondly craves, and of which the capacities of his na- 
ture render him susceptible. The only reason why civiliza- 
tion so invariably fails, is, because man will obstinately per- 
sist in idolatry. 

The worship, that is, the supreme adhesion of the aSec- 
tions, and the consequent devotion of life's energies to any 
object other than the true God, which is idolatry, is, as can 
be philosophically shown, necessarily fatal, to the successful 
development of the capacities of the race. It is unnatural ; 
the beginning of disorder, which invariably ends in the 
chaos of confusion, death, and moral desolation. To love 
the Lord our God as He is revealed to us in the Scriptures, 
with all the heart and soul and mind, is, while it is the 
first and greatest commandment, at the same time, the ne- 
cessary condition of self-preservation. Any conception of 



232 CIVILIZATION, AND (JeVIL-WORSHIP. 

the Deity other than that of Eevelation will, inevitably, be 
one-sided, inadequate, and therefore false. Whenever the 
deity thus inadequately conceived is worshipped as being 
the true God, invariably disastrous consequences ensue. 
Error, thus vital, begets sin; and it reacts, increasing error; 
until darkness ensues, and all are involved in moral confu- 
sion. The salvation of the race depends, then, in the first 
place, upon light — upon know^ing God -aright. Thus 
Christ tells us, " and this is life eternal, to know Thee, the 
only true God, and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent." To 
know the only true God is the first point ; and then comes 
the second, to love Him with all the heart and soul and 
mind, and to devote the whole life, with all its energies, to 
his service. To substitute any idea in the place of this re- 
vealed one of God, and to supremely love and worship it, 
is death to humanity. No matter how noble and beautiful 
and grand such an ideal god may appear in our eyes ; as 
substituted for the only true and living God who is re- 
vealed in the Scriptures, such a deity is but a lie ; it is not 
in reality God, but a mere figment of our imaginations — 
an idol, a lie. Moreover, such a god, in its conception, 
will inevitably be something that the natural man loves. 
We wdll invariably make our gods to suit ourselves. Thus 
each nation is to be found having its own gods, gods 
adapted to, and corresponding with, its national character- 
istics ; a principle which lies at the root of Polytheism. And 
when these objects of worship become impersonated ; this 
constitutes in full, the system of heathen idolatry. These 
self-concocted gods being lies, are, as we have said, evidently 
of the devil, who is the father of lies, and as such the great 
murderer of souls ; for the soul which worships a lie is 
doomed. In worshipping such lies, then, we become devil- 
worshippers, and are paid the devil's wages. Alas ! then, 
for our civilization ; it must, too, like all others which have 



CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL-WORSHIP. 233 

preceded it, pass away. It carries its own death in its 
bosom ; it is doomed to evanescence. True ! Christianity 
could preserve it. The sincere worship of the only true 
God — who is spirit — in spirit and in truth, would sustain 
a civilization which would be perpetual. But have we 
such a religion? The infidelity, corruption, restlessness, 
injustice, insubordination, every class in society wrangling 
fiercely for its so-called rights, — the convulsive throes of a 
disjointed, distracted, rent, torn, and bleeding society, com- 
pel us to think otherwise. No ! we have not such a religion 
prevalent in society ; nor, therefore, can we have such a civ- 
ilization. Nor do we expect it ever to be different : there 
must ever be a world, and a devil to contend against ; " there 
must ever be heresies, that they which are approved may 
be made manifest." The tares and the wheat must co-exist 
even unto the end. Evil is connatural to this world of ours ; 
and conflict and trials and tribulations must continue until 
the last trump sound and all men shall be summoned to 
Judgment. "For the Lord Himself shall descend from 
heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel and 
the trump of God ; and the dead in Christ shall rise first ; 
then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up to- 
gether with them to meet the Lord in the air, and so shall 
ever be with the Lord : wherefore comfort one another with 
these words." 

The kingdom which is to sustain an everlasting civiliza- 
tion has not yet been founded. Certainly the Church has 
not been such, nor will be ; for the tares and the wheat are 
to co-exist, we are expressly told, until the end. And where 
the tares and the devil are, there can be no peace or per- 
fection. For the present, the kingdom of God is within us ; 
as yet, it has no outward manifestation. The consciousness 
of the believer is at present the domain in w^hich that 
kingdom is in process of construction ; which, finally, when 
20* 



234 CIVILIZATION, AND (IeVIL-WORSHIP. 

all the elements which are to constitute it have been thor- 
oughly prepared, is to sustain, a civilization ever progress- 
ing, never retrograding, and never ending. Such a king- 
dom, in its full, outward manifestation, belongs not to the 
present order of things, but to another. 

If there be one thing that is more explicitly taught by 
history than anything else, it is, that every human institu- 
tion is ephemeral. The Scriptures tell us that *^ the fashion 
of this world passeth away ; " and some find it so to be. 
Everything that is human, like the human being himself, 
carries death in itself. Mortality extends beyond the per- 
sonal existence ; it pervades everything that the sinful 
creature has anything to do with. " By one man sin entered 
into the world, and death by sin ; and so death passed upon 
all men, for that all have sinned." Man's mortality is es- 
sentially connected with his sinfulness, and the same is true 
of all his social creations. All human institutions are mor- 
tal and ephemeral, because corruption is inherent in them. 
All that is required is time, w^hich will, in the end, make 
this inherent corruption apparent. Permit the fact of sin, 
and death follows as a natural necessity; — and what is 
death but disintegration, dissolution, separation, and evan- 
escence. It is in the individual personal being, the natural 
result of sin ; wliich in its final analysis, is the corruption of 
human being. The mortality, death, and evanescence of 
all human institutions, are, the natural result of the same 
causes ; they naturally follow from the corrupt nature of 
man. To expect anything in this world which is of man, — 
that any institution or establishment of which man is the 
author, shall be enduring, is to overlook the most obvious 
fact in man's present constitution. It is to forget that man 
is a sinful, fallen creature ; to ignore that eternal, inexora- 
ble, terrific law, that the wages of sin is death. And more- 
over, it is flatly to contradict the palpable, unmistakable 



CIVILIZATION, AND d EVIL- WORSHIP. 235 

teachings both of history and of revelation. That men, in 
this nineteenth century, can, in the face of all this, manage 
to convince themselves to the contrary ; that they can in- 
sanely expect that from henceforth all this is to be reversed ; 
and that these, their even now rotting and dissolving insti- 
tutions are to last; that such a wild and unreasonable 
opinion as this has been able to take such a firm hold upon 
society as it has done, and to pervade it so thoroughly as is 
now confessedly the case, is, we must say, a standing witness 
to the incurable fatuity of human nature. It proves the 
melancholy fact, that man cannot learn wisdom by experi- 
ence. We had fondly imagined that we of this nineteenth 
century had outlived the blind enthusiasm of fanaticism ; 
but here, as if to refute us, stands out as an unmistakable 
fact, the fanaticism of this religion of progress : a fanaticism 
which can easily be made manifest by applying to it the 
touchstone of opposition. Like all others, this fanaticism 
is unreasonable ; is therefore impatient under contradiction, 
unable to brook opposition ; it will not be questioned : it 
seeks to beat down all who oppose themselves to its dog- 
matic utterances with a clamor of loud vociferation, and 
with the frequent blows of a violent denunciation. Evi- 
dently this is a return upon us of one of those manias, 
which, epidemic-like, according to some lav/ not yet discov- 
ered, are prone periodically to infect society. Thus it was 
in the case of the Crusade-mania ; and again in that horrible 
mania of witchcraft ; and again in that most extraordinary 
of modern phenomena, the negro-mania : an epidemic which 
has succeeded in infecting the whole civilized world, has 
convulsed modern society, and has succeeded finally in 
overturning and in hopelessly disorganizing a considerable 
section of the civilized society of this nineteenth century. 
The society of the Southern States of America — especially 
their civil governments — presents a spectacle to the Avorld ; 



236 CIVILIZATION, AND cIeVIL-WOKSHIP. 

and now, in the face of all this, we are encountered by an- 
other of these manias — that of Progress. Such are some 
of the phenomena of social science ; and while they are as 
real, they are just as inexplicable as are the epidemics of 
medical science. 

Ckarly, Revelation teaches " that the heavens and the 

earth which are now are kept in store reserved unto 

fire against the day of judgment and perdition of ungodly 
men/' It is evident that " all these things " which now are 
" shall be dissolved ; '' that " the heavens being on fire shall 
be dissolved, and the elements shall melt with fervent heat ; 
the earth also and the things that are therein, shall be 
burned up." Nevertheless we, according to the promise, 
" look for a new heaven and a new earth wherein dwelleth 
righteousness." It is in this future world, wherein dwelleth 
righteousness, that we are to see that kingdom exhibited, 
which is to sustain an ever-enduring and progressive civiliza- 
tion. And it will be thus enduring, and not ephemeral as 
are all civilizations of this economy, just because its corner- 
stone is righteousness. Then, men shall have done with 
idolatry ; no longer will they in their fatuity persist in wor- 
shipping the phantoms of their own imaginations ; in wor- 
shipping lies and the devil ; for it is written, " there shall 
in no wise enter into that kingdom anything that defileth, 
neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie." 
Which all means, that there shall be no vile idolatry there. 
There, and then, at last, men shall have learned to worship 
and serve the true and living God, " for the tabernacle of 
God is at length with men and He shall dwell with them, 
and they shall be His people and God Himself shall be with 
them, and He shall be their God, and God shall wipe away 
all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more death, 
neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more 
pain, for the former things are passed away." Such, accord- 



CIVILIZATION, AND dEVIL-WORSIIIP. 237 

ing to Revelation, is the destiny in store for Godly humanity ; 
and until that time, we need not expect to find anything 
here that is enduring, except it be, the fatal power of evil. 
Civilization, to be enduring, must be built upon the founda- 
tion of godliness and righteousness. But inasmuch as it is 
not, but has for its foundation ungodliness, idolatry, and 
devil-worship, it is folly to expect anything else, but that, 
like the house built upon the sand, it will some day or other 
come down upon us, and with a crash. The civilization of 
the present will, like that of the past, prove evanescent. 
Glorious forms of civilization have lived before ours of the 
nineteenth century ; have passed away, leaving us nothing 
but memories and ruins. As it was with them, so too will it 
be with us. " For all flesh is as grass, and the glory of man 
as the flower of the grass. The grass withereth, and the 
flower thereof falleth away. But the word of the Lord," 
and that alone, in this world, " endureth, and forever." 



CONCLUSION. 

AT length, after a period of nearly a century, the United 
States of America is fairly launched upon the ocean 
of existence. Every nation must have its embryonic, and 
its immature stages. Nations are individualities, real 
existences, and must consequently, like individuals, be 
conceived, then born ; must be for a time under pupilage ; 
arrive at maturity, live, suffer, grow old, and then die. 
One law, perhaps, pervades the Universe — the law of pro- 
gress. Another parallel law pervades the fallen portion 
of the Universe — the law of death. Progress is life ; life, 
in this world, finds itself encountered by death. This 
brings about a conflict. Life seeking its development and 
realization, necessarily comes into conflict w^ith death, 
which tends to prevent and to destroy ; thus we have 
fluctuations, retardations, retrogression, and failure; for 
death in this world is the superior force, and in the end 
manages to reign supreme. True, there is a resurrection 
of the body, but not of the body politic. 

The United States of America, as a nation, has been 
born ; but has not, as yet, arrived at maturity. 

The birth of the nation took place during the late Civil 
War. Up to that time the Republican idea had not per- 
vaded the entire American mind ; up to this period there 
were existent two views of the American Constitution. 
The North held to the idea of the Republic, as being at 
the basis of the Constitution ; the South maintained that 

238 



CONCLUSION. 239 

of a confederation. State sovereignty was the cry of the 
South ; national sovereignty that of the North. 

For nearly a century these discordant views kept matur- 
ing, — often in the general councils of the Government com- 
ing into hostile collision, — until at last the time came, 
the issue was made, the lines drawn, and an appeal was 
made to arms. 

The Northern arms proved victorious ; the Northern idea 
has therefore triumphed. States rights is now a thing of 
the past, and out of the struggle has arisen the Republic. 

But all is not yet over. The nation, though born, is still 
struggling through its minority. The idea of States is 
evidently inconsistent with that of nationality. So long 
as these lines exist, this people cannot be really a nation. 
States are not necessary to republicanism ; they are rather 
in its way, — so many useless limitations, — and must in the 
end be swept away. The time must come when the United 
States will cease to exist ; there will be no States to be 
united ; in its place there will stand the great Republic of 
America — a nationality, a solidarity, one and indivisible : 
a nation with one head, one body ; its parts all members 
one of another, and pervaded by one Republican spirit. 
This is the destiny in store for the American people. 

The two principal elements constituting the general idea of 
civilization, are State and Church. Many are the theories 
which have been hitherto propounded as to how these ele- 
ments should be combined in order to working out satis- 
factorily this general result. The theory of Church and 
State, in combination, has already been very fully tried, 
and its result in contributing to the progress of civilization 
can be viewed in the pages of history. The most notable 
instance of this combination is to be found in the history 
of the Roman Church. In fact, the history of middle ages 
is the history of State and Church acting in combination. 



240 CONCLUSION. 

The Eeformation was in reality a revolution. Its ten- 
dency was to prove the possibility of the separation of 
those elements which had hitherto been considered as neces- 
sarily co-existent and conjunct in order to the progress of 
civilization. The revolution was, however, incomplete. 
Spiritual truth w^as, it is true, detached from co-existing 
error, and many vital principles were established; but that 
the revolution was imperfect, is evident from the fact that 
there w^as an almost immediate return to those abuses from 
which it was the main object of society to rid itself, namely, 
the combination of the secular with the spiritual, thus 
bringing in the principle of force for the maintenance of 
truth. 

None of the Reformed churches seem to have fully 
imbibed the idea of a possibility of the distinct separation 
of Church and State. Germany adhered to this form of 
civilization. France, from tlie necessity of the case, the 
minority of the nation only being Protestant, was unable to 
make the experiment. England adhered to the original 
system ; and Presbyterianism, in the person of Calvin, in his 
Jewish theocracy of Geneva, returned to this combination. 

In this great Republic of America, we shall have, for the 
first time, the experiment of the entire separation of Church 
and State fully tried. 

It is the grand object of the spirit of this Republic (we 
will not say constitution) to allow the full and free play of 
all those vital forces w^hich go to make up the progress of 
the human race ; and, in conformity with the tenor of this 
spirit, the whole exercise and development of the citizen's 
spiritual life, together with the organizations subservient to 
such development, have been left entirely untrammelled. 
Here, then, we have, for the first time in the history of 
Christianity, since its ascendency over the Roman world in 
the time of Constantino, a separation of Church and State ; 



CONCLUSION. 241 

and in the history of this country we are to see what will 
be the result. 

Taking a general survey of the condition of this nation, 
what are the facts as they present themselves ? The general 
aspect of the religious condition of this portion of Christian 
society is, to state it candidly, simply chaotic. We have 
before us simply elements, — atoms, flying ofi* from more 
ancient civilizations, uncombined, without any regular 
organization. Out of chaos, cosmos must arise. The reli- 
gious condition of this country is, then, in a primeval, chaotic 
state, out of which, in due course of time, a religious cos- 
mos, that is, an organized church, will arise. The nation, 
as a political organization, has already been born ; as a 
church, it remains to be born. The necessity of this nation 
is, then, to state it at once, a national church. Is this an 
impossibility? No more so, than was this republic ninety- 
six years ago. 

The constitutional elements which are to enter into the 
composition of this new unity, are the various spiritual 
denominations which already occupy the ground. The 
problem to be solved, is the same as that which exercised 
the ingenuity of our ancestors in the formation of that 
political organization known as the United States of 
America. 

The first step to be taken, as in that fofination, is that 
of confederation; this will be the beginning. And as a 
political confederation results in a republic, so in the case 
of the spiritual, will a simple confederation or organized 
association result finally in the grand unity of a national 
church; and that, not in combination with State, but 
wholly distinct ; the two standing over against each other, 
mutually cooperating in the sublime advance of civiliza- 
tion, realizing, to its full extent, the great idea of Republic- 
anism. First, we have the idea realized in State ; then in 
21 Q 



242 CONCLUSION. 

church ; then in combination, forming a new unity, yet in 
binality. When this is accomplished, then will be mani- 
fest in history the meaning of Eepublicanism. 

The difficulties which present themselves against the 
combination of such discordant elements as are to enter 
into the composition of a national church, might, at first 
sight, seem to be insuperable. These elements are, as has 
been said, the various religious denominations which now 
occupy the ground. 

An examination into the causes which serve to separate 
these different bodies, the one from the other, at once 
reduces the subject to one issue. All these causes of dif- 
ference spring from one source, namely, the true definition 
of the Christian Church. 

There are and can be but two leading theories on this 
subject ; the one is contained in the Roman formula, the 
other in the Protestant ; and when we say Protestant, we 
have need of qualification, for many of the Protestant 
denominations, either wittingly or unwittingly, adopt the 
Roman formula. The Protestant formula, in its full 
meaning, has not yet been fully developed. True, some of 
the Protestant denominations have put it into practice ; but 
Romanism, and antiquity, as embodied therein, exert such 
a powerful influence upon the Protestant mind, that it 
distrusts its own logical formula, and is forever returning, 
in theory and in practice, to the Roman. There are, we 
say, but two theories of the Christian Church ; and be it 
noted once for all, that we refer now to its visible presenta- 
tion in this world, — to the Church as a visible organization 
embodying and presenting Christian truth ; as an existing 
ecclesiastical institution. This is the light in which we are 
regarding the Church. There are but two theories possible: 
the one, that this outward visible form, this organized 
Christian society, is, as such, a divine institution ; that the 



r%. 



CONCLUSION. 243 

form of the Church is as much the subject of divine reve- 
lation as is its spirit ; that this form has been explicitly- 
revealed; that just as the Jewish theocracy, being a divine 
institution, was not subject to change at the hands of man, 
but was permanent, until God should make' the change, so 
the Christian Church, in its form, is God-instituted, and 
as such not subject to modification by man. According to 
this view, the outward form of the Church never changes. 
Its constitution — a specific, well-defined one — is considered 
to be the subject of express revelation. To be a Church 
at all, its constitution must be this one so explicitly re- 
vealed. Any Christian society organizing itself under any 
other constitutional form is, therefore, denounced as schis- 
matic, or as being no church at all, or, as the Roman 
Catholic Church will have it, is a proper subject for 
anathema. 

The other, or Protestant Church theory, is, in its logical 
completeness, exactly in opposition to the preceding. Ac- 
cording to it, although some form of church constitution is, 
as in the case of all organized bodies, essential to its exist- 
ence, yet no speeific constitutional form is so. The Church, 
it is held, like any other society, is at liberty to adopt any 
constitution it pleases. No specific constitutional form, it is 
held, is the subject expressly of Revelation. Historically, 
we learn that a certain specific constitution was adopted by 
the Apostles of our Lord ; but this was not an inspired en- 
actment ; but was adopted by the Apostles as a system best 
suited to the times then being. Nor have the Apostles in 
their writings claimed for this original primitive establish- 
ment the sanction of divine right, or any express perpetuity. 
It is considered that the organization of Christian society, 
and its whole administration, is left to the discretion of 
men ; and it is supposed in this, as in the case of all other 
important and vital subjects, men will exercise a sound dis- 



244 CONCLUSION. 

cretion ; and that consequently the Christian Church will 
be found, in all times, exhibiting as much order as any 
other human institution. Just as society in reference to its 
civil organization is at liberty to select such a constitutional 
form of government as it may judge most expedient, a 
monarchy having no more right to lay claim to Divine 
sanction, than an aristocratic form of government, or a 
republic : so with the Church, all constitutional forms are 
equally divine. 

To avoid confusion, in brief, according to both theories, 
the Christian Church is composed of three elements : its 
people or members ; its ministry ; and its discipline, or the 
government of the whole. The one theory holds, that these 
elements, and the mutual relations that they bear to each 
other, have been determined once and forever ; the other, 
that the mutual relation of these elements can, and should 
be modified according to circumstances. 

It is evident that the advocates of these two antagonistic 
theories can never come to an agreement. In this respect, 
there is no basis upon which they can possibly meet. The 
Romanist anathematizes the Protestant ; they are at enmity 
with each other, and must, in the course of events, come 
into collision. The Protestants, as we have said, as a body, 
do not stand up to their formula ; there is a great tendency 
in several of these bodies, to claim for their several polities 
a divine right ; few of them, none, we may say, as a body, 
undertake, however, to anathematize those who differ with 
them in this respect. Episcopalianism and Presbyterian- 
ism, both claim for themselves Scriptural authority for the 
peculiar form of their church organization. Many, in both 
of these bodies, we believe, go almost as far as the Roman- 
ists. Holding the doctrine, that whatever is not contained 
in Scripture, is contrary to Scripture ; that their peculiar 
form is set forth in Scripture, and that those that differ frpm 



CONCLUSION. 245 

them, therefore are opposed to the Scriptural institution ; 
they deny to many of their Protestant brethren the name 
of Church and denominate them schismatics, and in so 
doing go over to the formula of Rome. But the majority 
in both these sections of Protestantism, simply affirm the 
Apostolicity of their respective constitutions, without deny- 
ing to their brethren the name of Church, holding, as is 
held in the Episcopal denomination, that their form of 
constitution is historical, and, as they think, best adapted 
to the preservation of good order. All of the Protestants, 
then, with the exception of those in some of the denomina- 
tions who have in reality gone over to the Roman formula, 
are able to meet on a common basis. They all agree as to 
the non-essentiality of any one particular constitutional 
form, in order to the existence of a Christian Church ; and, 
seeing they can so far agree, they can combine and might 
possibly adopt some new form under which they all might 
anew arrange themselves ; that is to say, since all are 
agreed that the outward form of the Church is not in 
Revelation specifically defined, but is left to the discretion 
of men, there can be no objection to a new combination and 
a reorganization of the now disorganized spiritual society. 
So far as the form of the Church is concerned, Protestants, 
who hold logically to their formula — in this respect — 
stand just where the body politic at the organization of the 
United States stood. There were, then, just as many seem- 
ingly discordant elements in the body politic, as there are 
now, in the body spiritual ; yet these were all brought to- 
gether, and combined in a confederation. Just so now. 
Protestantism can confederate, and in due time come into 
existence as a national, republican, spiritual institution. 

Romanism, on the other hand, is totally unadapted, by 
reason of its formula, to be a basis for a national church. 
In its spirit it is exactly opposed to the idea of nationality. 
21 * 



246 CONCLUSION. 

It is cosmopolitan ; its head resides in Rome ; its members 
are scattered abroad upon the face of the earth ; being 
unalterable in its form, it is incapable of adapting itself to 
circumstances. The citizens of the State are the subjects of 
a foreign prince ; and often have these conflicting claims to 
allegiance been practically brought into collision. 

A system which holds that its form is the divine and the 
only true one, can never descend to a compromise. There 
are only two alternatives : either it must conquer, or must 
perish. Protestantism and Romanism must eventually 
measure strength w^ith each other; and this contest will 
occur most probably in this very country. It is high time 
then for Protestantism, to heal its internal dissensions, and 
to organize itself for the conflict. There must be a national 
church eventually in this republic. If Protestants fail to 
organize, and to occupy the ground, it will in the end be 
taken possession of by Romanism. Already the first signs 
of this struggle are manifest. The Roman Catholics, as a 
body, are moving to expel the Bible from our schools ; not 
because they really object to the reading of the Bible in the 
schools, but because they object to the schools themselves. 
The Bible in the schools is only the formal cause of war. 
The objection is, because the schools are not sectarian ; con- 
ducted under Roman Catholic influences. Here is the 
first evidence of that struggle in this country which must 
eventually take place. 

Protestantism, in so far as its formal organization is con- 
cerned, has a basis, in common, upon which all denomina- 
tions can combine, confederate if they will, and, in course 
of time, form a national Republican church. 

Next, then, as to the internal difiiculties. Protestantism, 
as it is well known, arose out of that movement in the six- 
teenth century known as the Reformation, which was essen- 
tially a spiritual movement. The change in organic forms 



CONCLUSION. 247 

which this movement necessitated, was incidental rather 
than intentional. That point which is now made so im- 
portant in controversy by the Protestant bodies, namely, 
Church polity or external organization, was at that time 
regarded as of little moment ; traditional sequence. Apos- 
tolic succession, and historical unity, were not then, the 
important points. The statement of spiritual truth in 
dogmatic form is that to which the Reformers most 
aspired; in the support of which.. they wrote, and fought; 
and even suffered martyrdom. The Church of England, 
for instance, by no means assumed to ignore the Churchism 
of the Lutheran and Reformed or Calvinistic churches ; 
and in the Synod of Dort might be found English bishops 
recognizing and sitting in General Assembly with Calvin- 
istic or Presbyterian divines. The controversy was not 
then, as it is too often now, about forms ; but about vital 
spiritual truths. The statement, then, of religious doctrinal 
truth has been, and ever must be, the important point in 
all the Protestant denominations. Very naturally the Pro- 
testant exaggerated, and still continues to exaggerate, this 
item. 

Each Christian body, upon organizing, felt itself called 
upon to state, in dogmatic form, the subjects of its belief; 
these doctrinal statements, styled Articles or Confessions of 
Faith, were at the basis of each of these separate Protestant 
bodies ; and it is to be observed that these doctrinal state- 
ments were often very elaborate, entering into minute 
detail in the statement of abstruse, and much controverted 
points of doctrine. The differences in doctrinal statement, 
were then primarily, what distinguished these various 
bodies. But while it was held important, that these state- 
ments should be correct, and each body thought its state- 
ments so to be, it was by no means thought that those who 
differed on these subordinate points, were to be excluded 



248 CONCLUSION. 

from church-fellowship. Here, however, we are at the root 
of that error, which has since proved so disastrous to the 
unity of the Protestant Church. Charity w^as sacrificed to 
logic, and we reap the fruits thereof. 

We have, in this country, representatives of these primal 
Protestant societies. We have the English Church with 
its episcopacy ; Presbyterianism, with its presbytery and 
synods ; Congregationalists, or Independents ; Baptists ; 
Methodists ; and numerous other minor denominations. 
As to Church polity, we have already seen that all these 
bodies have a common ground upon which they can meet. 
Can a like basis be found in relation to doctrinal state- 
ments ? Certainly, if each body consider that its statement 
must be made the rule of every other ; and that any de- 
parture from, or variance with, its statement, is fatal to the 
existence of any other society as a church, no such common 
basis could be found ; but this has never been, nor is now, 
the view of any Protestant denomination, as a whole. Are 
there not then certain points, in common, recognized by all 
as vital and essential, around which they would all be will- 
ing to meet as a common centre? Were a whole com- 
munity only Deistic, they would still have certain points in 
common upon which they could agree. They must all 
recognize a God, and their responsibility to Him ; and also a 
certain rule of duty. The Christian community differs from 
a Deistic in this : that it recognizes the God not only of 
Nature, but also of Revelation ; and not only a God, but 
also His Son, as One with Him, our Saviour Jesus Christ. 
The characteristic feature of Christianity is, that it recog- 
nizes Jesus Christ as the Son of God. It recognizes its 
obligation to worship and obey Him as God, — to love 
Him as a Saviour. 

Any society that recognizes this fundamental doctrine is 
Christian ; and any two holding to it, can and ought to be 



CONCLUSION. 249 

joined together. All the Protestant denominations, with the 
exception of the Unitarians, who are strictly such, agree in 
this fundamental doctrine of Christianity. They can, then, 
upon what is essentially and vitally Christian, have a com- 
mon basis. The truth is, that all this wrangling over points 
of doctrine is entirely unnecessary. It arises out of a total 
misconception of Christianity, and of the mission of the 
Church. It was never intended that the Church should be a 
mere bundle of logical, dogmatic, theological fagots. Christ 
intended that his Church should be his human agent, co- 
operating with Him, and He through it, in carrying out 
His Redemptive scheme. The truth which He committed 
to His Church is not the end, but the means to an end. 
This truth was to be used for man's redemption, as a means 
of freeing him from the thraldom of the devil and sin ; 
and, lo ! the Church, instead of using it, bundles it up in 
certain hard dogmatic formulae ; so hard, that few can under- 
stand them ; and having done this, she considers her work 
as finished. This is her main object, she says, to bear wit- 
ness to the truth ; which means to draw it out into a Cal- 
vinistic, or Arminian, or Socinian system ; to present these 
systems to men, insisting that they must receive them, and 
that, on the pain of damnation, — alas, what a delusion is 
this ! 

Behold, then, the true mission of the Church ! To ad- 
vance Christ's kingdom upon earth ; y/hich means, that we 
are to cooperate with God in the effort to deliver our fel- 
low-men from the bondage of sin and the devil, according 
to that method which has been revealed by Christ in his 
Gospel ; and that way consists, simply, in receiving Jesus 
Christ as the Son of God, and as our Lord and Saviour ; 
in relying upon His merits, sm^ in His strength trying to 
obey His commandments. This is the true mission of the 
Church, to make known to men, and to press them to adopt 



250 CONCLUSION. 

this way of salvation ; and not to damn them for not be- 
lieving certain difficult and abstract formulas. 

Let men but adopt this, which is the true theory of the 
Church's mission, and all those exaggerated notions as to 
the necessity of these nice technical dogmatic statements 
as a basis for the Church, will at once disappear. And 
then, perhaps, a better and a more charitable and more 
efficient form of the Christian Church may be established. 
The sooner men can learn to know that "other foundation 
can no man lay than that is laid even Jesus Christ," the 
better. Very naturally, this was a mistake in the Reform- 
ers ; but it is unnatural that it should any longer continue 
to exist. If it does continue, there is no telling into how 
many atoms Protestantism may finally be resolved. There 
are now one hundred and forty-six denominations, it is said, 
in England ; perhaj)S, there are even more in this country. 

The Roman Church separates itself from the body of 
Protestantism, primarily, on the ground of form ; the Uni- 
tarians, on the score of essential doctrinal differences. 
Strictly, Unitarianism cannot be said to be Christianity, 
for it denies the Head, i. e. Christ. It departs, therefore, 
from the Christian scheme of Redemption, and assails the 
kingdom of evil according to its own plan. This leaves us, 
however, the great mass of Protestantism, fully capable, on 
its own principle, of forming a union on a common basis. 

Each of the Protestant bodies, as they now exist among 
us, has its peculiar form of organization and its confession 
of faith. They all agree in the non-necessity of the con- 
tinuance of any present existing form ; that is to say, they 
allow that any existing form of Church organization can 
be altered without interfering with the existence of that 
church ; they agree, moreover, in the fundamental doctrine 
of Christianity, recognizing their mutual obligation to the 
same common Lord and Master; they are all mutually 



CONCLUSION. 251 

interested in one common cause ; all have the same end in 
view, namely, the advance of the kingdom of Christ in this 
world; and they allow, that on subordinate points of 
Christian doctrine, the opinions of men must ever differ, 
and, therefore, it is unbecoming to dogmatize harshly about 
them. 

Under these circumstances, it is then possible for the 
various Christian societies to meet together for delibera- 
tion ; and to secure a more vital union. Just as in the body 
politic, when there is one aim in view, such as to promote 
the general welfare, and to secure, by combination, strength 
and protection against enemies, the citizens of the country 
meet together and organize themselves, forming a govern- 
ment : so the Christian societies can now act. First, with their 
integral parts complete, they can intrust with certain pow- 
ers a central government; then, as soon as such government, 
has gone into actual operation, they will gradually sink 
their respective individualities, becoming merged into one 
new unity, the general government of which will extend to, 
and penetrate the body at large. In fine, let the Protestant 
bodies, as they now are, institute a central government, and 
become a spiritual confederacy — a church consisting of 
united States. Then, in due time, let them, or rather history 
will itself effect it, cease to be States or confederates, and 
become a united, national, republican Church. Let them 
all surrender their present charters, and take out new ones 
from this new national creation. Apply, in fact, the idea 
of Kepublicanism to the Protestant Church ; let it work 
itself out, just as it has done in the body politic; and in 
due time you will have as the result, what we so much need 
and what we must have, — a national Church. 

The recognition of the necessity for such an organization 
is rapidly forcing itself upon the public mind. The Church, 
has ever been, and must continue to be, a most important 



252 CONCLUSION. 

element in tlie progress of civilization; its influence, if 
arrayed in antagonism to that of the State, will inevitably 
prove formidable. The power of the Church is, we cannot 
but think, greater than that of any body politic ; and the 
State which disregards this important element to its suc- 
cessful management, is guilty of unwarrantable negligence. 
It is not, however, in this country, the State, so much, as 
the citizen of the State, who should observe this fact. In a 
republic, the citizens are the State ; and these citizens, too, 
as men, must constitute the Church. Since, then, the influ- 
ence of the spiritual is more powerful than that of the 
secular, it follows, that that branch of the Church which is 
most numerous, must, in the State, exercise supreme author- 
ity ; it will, in fact, rule the State, making it instrumental 
in carrying out its designs. It is all-important, then, that 
-spiritual power, in this country, should rest with those who, 
in the State, will use their power in the cause of freedom, 
rather than in that of bigotry and spiritual tyranny. The 
time must come in the history of this country, when ques- 
tions will arise, to some extent, involving religious issues. 
It is then, that Church party lines will first conspicuously 
appear; and the country may then see what she is to 
expect. Let the prei^onderance of power but reside in a 
national Protestant Church, and the Republic is safe. The 
spirit of Protestantism and that' of Republicanism is the 
same ; they both love liberty and hate tyranny ; the Church 
and State must work together, therefore, and mutually 
strengthen each other. But unless this be so, if Protes- 
tantism be allowed to remain in its present disorganized 
condition, internal dissensions must necessarily estrange 
those who ought to be united ; and the balance of power 
will inevitably pass into the hands of that organization 
which remains, as in the case of Romanism, united ; and 
whose principles are inconsistent with those of Republic- 
anism. 



CONCLUSION. 253 

It is folly to expect, we say, that this our country will 
escape those distractions arising from religious causes 
which have ever existed in all other Christian countries. 
The religious equilibrium of this country has not yet been 
established. Already we have within us elements of dis- 
cord, which will, in the end, result in bringing about conflict. 
Some specific church organization must, in the end, hold 
supreme power. The only question is, whether it shall be 
Romanism or Protestantism. And, with Protestantism dis- 
organized, it is but likely, to say the least of it, that the 
balance of power will fall into the hands of Romanism. 
A national Protestant Church is then an absolute necessity. 
If our Republic is to continue to exist ; if we are to continue 
to have free institutions, free schools, free press, freedom 
of religious opinion ; if we are to have freedom at all, a 
national Republican Church must arise. 

No statesman of any reputation can fail to recognize the 
importance of the religious element in a nation's civilization. 
Without some religious cultus, no nation can continue 
long to exist. The ancients uniformly recognized this fact. 
The Greeks and the Romans had a national religion, and 
its accompanying cultus. Napoleon Bonaparte, on as- 
suming the reins of government, recognizing the necessity 
of a religion, in order to the establishment of government, 
at once reintroduced, and reestablished, the but lately dis- 
carded form of religion. Even the authors of the French 
Revolution, practical atheists as they were, in many cases 
philosophically so, recognizing the necessity of some obliga- 
tion loftier than any that humanity could impose, resorted 
first to the deification of an abstract principle ; and then, at 
the instance of Robespierre, to the formal establishment of 
a species of Deism, as the national religion. If, then, reli- 
gion be such an important element in the continuance of 
an orderly society ; if it be necessary for the continuance 
22 



254 CONCLUSION. 

of government itself, certainly it is unbecoming a citizen 
and a statesman to neglect giving this subject its proper 
attention. The error in all former times was, in the States 
as such, assuming the direct control of the religious ele- 
ment; thus combining Church and State together. In the 
case of this country, the two elements are to be separated 
to be again recombined ; but not in a form of civil govern- 
ment, but rather in the person of each individual citizen. 
The citizen is the State, and as man, he is the Church ; he 
rules in the one case through his representative, in the other 
case through his ministers. Every citizen, in a republic, 
necessarily, occupies, the position of statesman. It is his 
duty carefully to attend to the affairs on the one hand of 
the State, and, on the other hand, to those of the Church ; 
and the one is just as important as the other. 

The people of this country do recognize their obligation, 
so far as concerns the State ; but they have not, as yet, felt 
the importance of a due regulation of religious influences 
in their government. If, argues the citizen, every man 
is necessarily, an element, in the governing body, it is all- 
important that, as such, he should be intelligent. It is 
then the duty of the State, or the citizens in organization, 
mutually to educate each other. This principle lies at the 
basis of the conimon-school system of this Republic. But 
the argument should be extended. If the citizen should 
be intelligent, it is just as necessary that he should be good. 
Intelligence, without a corresponding moral and religious 
development, is simply power; and, perhaps, rather for 
evil than for good. The moral and religious culture of the 
people is then just as much a duty devolving upon the 
citizen as is their intellectual culture. This duty, it is true, 
does not immediately devolve upon the State, but it does 
upon the citizen of the State ) and the people of this coun- 
try will inevitably some day or other feel the force of this 
truth. 



CONCLUSION. 255 

The only question, then, is, how practically to carry out, 
practically to fulfil this duty ; how is the moral and religious 
culture of this people, at large, to be efiected? Up to this 
time, it has been left, to those various denominational bodies 
which occupy this country, and, as all must confess, has been 
very inadequately performed ; and, besides, each of these 
bodies, is now engaged, in the struggle for power ; each en- 
deavoring to imbue the public mind with its own peculiar 
views ; and, in some cases, the views sought to be inculcated 
are contrary to the principles of Republicanism. This, in 
itself, generates an unhealthy tone in the public mind, and 
prepares the way for distracting conflicts in the future. It is 
time that the citizens of the Republic should observe these 
things ; and should make some effort to organize and so to 
establish some uniform basis of moral and religious instruc- 
tion. A national Church is, we think, the only remedy 
which can be applied ; and in a people like this, so strongly 
imbued with the idea of logical consistency, — a people 
whose very genius is combination, cooperation, and unity, — 
it cannot be long before this discrepancy between the reli- 
gious and the civil status of this country wdll force itself 
upon the public attention ; and the result, no doubt, will 
be the application of the Republican idea to the religious 
element, which will, in its finality, result in the organiza- 
tion of a national Church, organized according to Repub- 
lican principles ; separate from the State, yet united to it 
in the person of the citizen ; who, in his person, exercises 
the functions both of civil legislator and of churchman; 
and thus, in the end, will we have before us, fully realized, 
the idea, of the Christian Republic. 



